


Missing: Death: If Found, Please Murder IMMEDIATELY

by aReveur



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Character Undeath, Crying, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone is an adult?, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Slow Build, Violence, lots of pink, post highschool?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2020-11-28 20:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20972483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aReveur/pseuds/aReveur
Summary: After dropping out of college to study magic, Stiles Stilinski has decided to open his very own, totally not magic, cafe in Beacon City. Little does he know that this cafe is bringing in more than college students. In fact, it's bringing in terrifying strangers and shockingly not dead old friends. Turns out that Death has gone missing, and it's up to Stiles to get the gang back together before new developments shatter them to bits.





	1. Student's Cafe

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. So, please be gentle with me. This is my first work and it is going to be a wild ride.

In the bustling late nights at UC Beacon City stood a small café. There was nothing exceptional about the café. It had white walls on the outside, and brown walls on the inside. The ceiling fans squeaked in the summer, and the heater rumbled in the winter. All of the wooden tables felt just the slightest bit sticky no matter how hard someone scrubbed, and the chairs could leave the most relaxed person stiff and uncomfortable. This was just how Student’s Café had always been since it opened, and it was how the place was going to be when it closed.

Still, there was something about the café that brought in the people who the place was named for. Some say it’s because it stays open till 4:00 a.m. Others believe that it’s because there’s something about the coffee that helps them focus. One student even said that when they almost gave up on finding a place to study, a space seemed to just appear before they walked out.

Student’s Café was a place made for anyone who needed to get their work done without distraction. In fact, if there was anything in the place that was distracting, it was the owner. Stiles Stilinski could never keep still. If he wasn’t at the bar, banging cups and kettles, he was bumping into every person possible as he cleaned. No one mind it, though. He was a welcome distraction for those a little too glued to their computers. For some, his jostling was like being pulled from a trance. For other’s it was like a reminder that they had other places they needed to be. It was as if Stiles just knew when students or other customers needed to take a break and return to the outside world.

Stiles opened Student’s just one year after dropping out of UC Beacon City. No one is exactly sure what the exact day was that he opened the café. It just seemed to appear. When one student asked for the date it opened, Stiles just said, “It opened when I was ready,” and then proceeded to spill coffee all over his black apron. It was the only thing he would say about his shop, but it was the only thing he wouldn’t talk about. Give him the barest of openings and a customer’s one minute order could turn into a twenty minute conversation.

“Can I please just get my coffee?” said his latest victim. She looked ready to drop dead. Her eyes were nearly vacant and the bun of brown hair on her head was looking more like a ragged knot.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Stiles said and handed her the warm cup. The girl took a quick sip before turning away. Stiles could see the flinch everyone gave from the subtly disappointing coffee, but her steps grew with more purpose as she walked back to her seat.

Stiles didn’t mind if his customers got a bit cranky with him. Better him, an almost stranger, than a family member, friend, or professor. Plus, he was kind of used to people being some kind of annoyed with him at all times. It was just a part of his charm.

After serving two more students their drinks, and bumping a couple more as he swept the floor, he checked his watch. The time read 1:56 a.m. It was time to start shutting off the coffee makers and pack the excess food from the display case next to the cashier counter.

There were few rules in the café, but one was that all food and beverages would stop being served at 2:00 a.m. with no exceptions. Everyone was free to stay the last two hours, but all that would be left to drink was a pitcher of water. It was Stiles’ way of making sure that everyone would still have a chance to get some sleep at home before the day really started.

As Stiles worked, the students slowly packed their things and exited the café. Some said goodbye, but most just went their separate ways. It wasn’t until 3:37 that Student’s was empty of all customers except for one. The woman sitting in the farthest corner didn’t look like a student. Her brown hair was tied into a pony-tail, and the plain white T-shirt she had on was heavily wrinkled along her waist as if she had been tugging at fabric over and over again. She was busy scribbling away on a note pad while reading a newspaper to notice that she was the only person left.

“Excuse me,” Stiles said from across the café, causing the lady to nearly jump out of her seat. “I’m closing for the night, but feel free to come back at eight to keep researching or whatever.” The lady just looked at Stiles with slightly too wide eyes. Her face showed only one emotion to Stiles. Distress. His hands grabbed a cup and the jug of water before he even realized that he was walking up to the woman. “Maybe take a moment and have a drink of water first, though,” he said as he poured the water into the cup mid-stride.

“Thank you,” she said as she grabbed the cup out of Stiles’ hand. She took a long gulp before speaking again. “It’s been a really crazy day, and I just can’t seem to get my bearings.”

“I get that,” Stiles said with a nod. “Sometimes life can send too many fastballs your way and all you’ve got is a broken broomstick to beat them back with.”

The lady knit her brows together in a shockingly familiar way to Stiles before she said, “Yea… That makes sense.”

“What’s on your mind?” Stiles asked.

“Well,” she started before taking a quick sip of water, then continued, “I’m looking for my family.”

“Were you supposed to meet up with one of them here?”

“No,” she answered as she started to pull her shirt down nervously with her empty hand. “I actually don’t know where they are.”

“Oh, well that’s okay. If they live nearby, then they shouldn’t be hard to find. I could probably look them up on my phone or the office computer.” Stiles said as he tried to give her a reassuring smile.

The woman took two more gulps from the glass before she shakily placed it onto a nearby table. “I also don’t know who they are,” she added.

“Okay-“ Stiles started, but was quickly cut off.

“I also don’t know where I am?” She said.

“Uh” Stiles lifted his hands as if they could stop her from her growing despair as she stepped closer to him.

“And I don’t know who I am. Please help me,” she nearly begged as his hands landed on her shoulders to keep her from getting into his space.

“Oh,” he thought to himself. “Oh no,” he said out loud.


	2. Uninvited Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia isn't a fan of Stiles bringing in strangers in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Chapter two! Things are looking interesting! Thanks for the Comments and Kudos! I'll hopefully have the next chapter up Tuesday or Wednesday!

If there was one thing that Lydia Martin truly hated about Stiles, it would be how incapable he is of being quiet. For example, this very Thursday morning at 4:23am as the idiot threw the front door open. The young woman could hear every pounding footfall from said idiot as he moved back and forth from the living room to his own bedroom. On top of all that lovely noise, Lydia was able to make out a second voice along with Stiles’ constant babble.

Lydia sighed as she pushed the blanket off of her, and got up from her bed to walk over to the door. She opened it just enough to let some light in before calling out, “If you do not shut up in the next two seconds, Stiles, I swear to all things if you don’t let me sleep for at least another hour and a half, I will personally make sure your café ceases to exist.”

“Wait, Lydia,” Stiles called back. “I need your help-“

“Your condoms are in your underwear drawer,” Lydia answered.

“No- how-? Never mind,” Stiles said. “She has amnesia!”

“Then take her to a hospital,” Lydia snapped.

“Um, I’d rather not,” said the anonymous woman.

Lydia took a moment to sigh again before she shut the door. The strawberry blonde quickly walked over to her closet to grab a simple black robe, and tied it around herself before she opened the door again to step into the living room.

“Why?” she asked the woman as she looked straight into her grey-green eyes.

The other woman, though fidgeting with her white shirt, held Lydia’s gaze with almost defiance as she said, “I don’t know. I just have a feeling that I don’t like hospitals.”

“Great,” Lydia said. “Stiles?” she called as the young man walked out of his own room with a navy blanket and white pillow.

He winced before saying, “Yes?”

“Would you be so kind and have a little chat with me in my room?” Stiles’ shoulders slumped as he nodded his head. Nothing good ever came out of Lydia’s private bedroom chats. He put down the blanket and pillow before he followed behind his friend as she entered her room once again. Stiles slowly swung the door closed, and turned on a light so he and Lydia could see each other.

In a word, the room was spacious. With a queen sized bed and frame, wardrobe, and desk all in a matching dark, ornate wood paid for with her (father’s) money. It still had plenty of space for two people to walk around without bumping into each other, or feeling crowded. The one thing that made Stiles jealous about it, though, was that it has its own private bathroom, while the only other one was shared between the kitchen and living room.

Lydia sat down at her desk chair and stared at Stiles with a cool expression. Still, Stiles could feel the frustrated rage that beamed from her eyes. He gulped, and took a quick breath before he said, “Okay let me explain. So she was the last customer at the café, and I was like, ‘Oh a new person! I gotta let her know that I’m closing.’ So I do that and she’s all nervous and looking a bit freaked and I’m like, ‘hoo boy, that’s not good,’ and then she’s like ‘Yo, I remember absolutely nothing about myself and have no idea where I am,’ but not in those words. So, I’m standing there and she’s standing there and we’re both just standing there, and I didn’t know what to do Lydia! I couldn’t just leave her out in the city for something bad to happen to her! So, I brought her here and here we are.”

The young woman just continued to stare at Stiles for a moment. Stiles hated when she did that. She only does it to get under his skin when she’s especially angry at him.

“Is she supernatural?” she finally asked.

“Uh-“

“Stiles,” she said. “Did you not check if she was some creature before letting her into the apartment?”

“I wasn’t really thinking about it?” Stiles said as he lifted his hands up in surrender.

Lydia gave another sigh before she said, “I swear to all things, Stiles, if she kills us, I am going to make your afterlife an unliving nightmare.”

“I don’t think she’s dangerous,” Stiles argued.

“Just because she’s lost her memories doesn’t mean she can’t accidentally kill us, Stiles,” Lydia argued back. “If she turns out to be something we haven’t faced before, her having no memories could make her even more dangerous. What if she doesn’t remember how to control herself?”

“This is all on the assumption that she’s even supernatural-“

“Oh?” Lydia said with a tilt of her head. She got up and walked back to the door to open it. “Why don’t we find out then?”

Both Lydia and Stiles walked back out of the room to the nameless woman still sitting on the couch. This time, though, she had the pillow that Stiles brought out clenched in her arms.

“I promise,” she said. “I won’t hurt you.”

“And what makes you think we thought you’d hurt us?” Lydia asked while turning to give Stiles a pointed look.

“Because I heard everything through the wall,” the woman said.

“Of course you did,” Lydia said with another sigh. “Stiles, lock down the apartment.”

“Um?” the woman said as she started to clench the pillow even harder.

“But-“

“Stiles,” Lydia snapped.

The young man winced before lifting up his right hand and snapping his fingers. The sound was sharper than expected, which caused everyone to flinch. The room didn’t seem to change at all, but everything felt just a bit more cramped. It was as if the entire apartment was trying to encase the three people inside with an unseen pressure. The woman took a look at the door leading out of the place, and even it seemed to loom towards her like it wanted her to try and escape. She turned back to stare at the duo, her eyes flashing a glowing yellow in warning.

“Ah,” both Lydia and Stiles said at nearly the same time. Lydia held her gaze on the woman as Stiles quickly stepped in and back out of his room with a pair of wooden handcuffs. He handed them to his roommate as she slowly walked closer to the assumed werewolf. The woman’s eyes widened and her eyes stayed yellow as Lydia stepped closer and closer.

“These aren’t going to hurt you,” Lydia explained while keeping eye contact. “They’re just to keep you from transforming. We don’t know how well you can control yourself, and we want a fighting chance in case something goes wrong.”

The woman didn’t move. She just stayed sitting and stared at the woman as she took another step towards her.

“Please,” Lydia said with as much sincerity as she could muster.

The woman just stared for another beat before slowly pushing her arms forward.

“Thank you,” Lydia said with a relieved sigh. She started to wrap the handcuffs around the woman’s wrists as she said, “I know this isn’t ideal, but-“

She paused as her hands touched the woman’s skin. Lydia sucked in a breath, and started to scream.


	3. The Scream Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia is not having the best morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol did I say tuesday or wednesday? Because I meant wednesday night of the next week. Sorry this is coming in so late.

Without missing a beat Stiles ran into Lydia’s bedroom. On her nightstand was a small jewelry box that Derek had made for her as a birthday gift when she turned twenty-one. Stiles opened the box and pulled the single wood beaded bracelet inside before he ran back out of the room. He slipped the bracelet onto her right wrist as quickly as possible, and the room went silent.

“W-What?” the other woman said.

“Sorry about that,” Stiles said as he pulled a silently screaming Lydia down onto the other end of the couch. “She’s a Banshee, so she tends to scream about death sometimes. So, I made this little silencing bracelet for her so she doesn’t wake any of the neighbors.”

The woman and Stiles watched and waited as Lydia started to calm down from her sudden outburst. Lydia slumped in her seat for a moment without looking at anyone.

“Lyds,” Stiles coaxed. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Lydia just shook her head until she finally pulled off the bracelet.

“Y-You,” she said as she caught her breath. “You don’t belong here.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles asked. “She-“

“She doesn’t belong here, Stiles,” Lydia said. “She died.”

“No,” said the other woman. “That’s not possible. I’m right here.”

“I saw it,” Lydia said. “I saw how you died.” She turned to look at the woman, pausing to take in a few more breaths and said, “You were murdered.”

“What?” both Stiles and the woman said.

“It was dark,” Lydia answered. “I couldn’t see who did it, but I could feel something cutting across my throat.”

“Could you see anything else?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t know,” Lydia said as she knit her eyebrows in thought. “It’s all hazy. I can’t even tell what it is that cut me.”

“Me,” the other woman said. “You mean me.” Her expression was looking a bit more manic than it had when Lydia was trying to get the wooden handcuffs on her. She pulled at her white t-shirt over and over again as if she were trying to get it to stretch down to her feet. “Someone cut my neck,” she said as she started to choke up. “Someone killed me.”

“But you’re alive now,” Stiles said with a shrug. “So, that’s something, right?”

“I-I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t know who or where I am, I don’t know how I got here, and now I know that I’m not even supposed to be alive?” Small tears began to form along the shirt. Stiles watched as the tears got longer as the woman’s nails grew sharper.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said as he raised his hands. “Maybe we should go meet with one of my friends. Maybe he can help. He can at least help you calm down.”

“How?” she said as she looked up at Stiles with glowing yellow eyes.

“W-well,” Stiles stammered, “for starters, he is an alpha werewolf? His name’s Scott. He’s been my best friend since high school. He’ll totally help you out.”

The woman didn’t say anything for a moment before finally nodding. Stiles gave a reassuring smile before turning back to Lydia.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked her.

Lydia took another breath before she sighed and nodded her own head.

“I’ll be fine,” she answered. She looked over to the other side of the room to the kitchenette to read the time on the microwave. It read 5:37am. “I might as well start getting ready for work anyway.”

“Are you sure you should be going in?” Stiles asked, but Lydia just waved him off.

“Who else is going to be there to open? We have no staff. Now go,” Lydia said.

“I could call our new guy. I’m sure he-“ Stiles started.

“Stiles!”

“Got it!”

Stiles gave Lydia a quick side-hug before he snapped his fingers. The pressure around the apartment dissipated in less than a moment as Stiles ran over to his room to grab his car keys. He pulled out his cell phone as he gestured at the woman to follow him out the front door. The two quietly walked down the hall as Stiles tapped his fingers against the screen of his phone. As the two stepped into the elevator, the phone started to ring.

“Hello?” Stiles said with a quick wince.

“You let a random werewolf into your house?” the phone yelled loud enough for both Stiles and the woman to wince.

“Technically, yes, but I didn’t know she was a werewolf at the time!” Stiles said.

“Is she wearing the cuffs?” the voice said.

“…No.”

“WHY!”

“Look, Scott, I’ll tell you all about it when we get there,” Stiles answered.

“You have thirty minutes to be here or else,” and the call cut off.

Stiles chuckled for a moment at his phone before he put it back into his pocket. He shrugged at the strange look that the woman was giving him.

“I’ve been known to put myself into dangerous situations without letting anyone know,” was all he said as he stepped out of the elevator. The woman shook her head as she followed behind.

Stiles lead the woman into the underground parking lot, and to a shockingly beat up, blue jeep. The two got in without a word. He kept an eye on the woman as the jeep started up with a cough. She didn’t move much, excluding still pulling down o her shirt here and there, and she didn’t seem interested in talking. There was still something about her that just seemed so familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The drive was silent as they traveled out of Beacon City into Beacon Hills. It took just less than twenty minutes for the two of them to arrive at the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. A small “Open 24 hours” sign glowed with neon light just to the side of the door. Before Stiles and the woman had any time to get out of the jeep another young man was in Stiles’ space, checking for any marks or scratches. Stiles just wrapped his arms around the other guy for a brief hug, and then pushed the guy back.

“Scott, I told you I’m fine,” Stiles said.

“Can’t be sure with you, bro,” said the other guy, Scott. He turned to look at the woman before he nodded his head and lead the two into the clinic. “You caught me on a slow night,” he said as he opened the door to the back room. “Actually, it’s been pretty slow for the last two weeks. Deaton and I haven’t had any emergencies or anything. It’s like all the animals in Beacon Hills decided they were done trying to kill themselves.” Stiles and the woman glanced at each other as they followed Scott. The woman started to pull on her shirt again as they entered the medical room.

“Funny you should say that,” Stiles started when Scott turned to frown at the woman. “My friend here may be back from the grave.”

“What?” Scott asked.

“I don’t want to explain again. You can ask her,” Stiles said as he nodded his head towards the woman. “Plus, I need a quick nap.”

“Stiles-,“ Scott started, but Stiles was already back out of the room. He pulled the couple of chairs in the waiting area together into a small makeshift bed. He crawled in, curled into himself so he could fit, and started to doze off.

It was barely an hour and a half when he was woken up by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled the phone out and looked at the blurry name. He had to rub his eyes before they started to focus and show that Lydia was calling. Stiles accepted the call with a, “The place isn’t even open yet.”

“Stiles,” Lydia said in between sobs. Stiles shot right up.

“Lydia, what’s wrong?” Stiles asked as his heart started to race.

Lydia just continued to sob for a moment before she stuttered, “A-Allison.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's something about this chapter that has my editor senses tingling and I can't figure it out. Since it's already so late I'm delivering it unedited, but I plan to come back to it at some time and fix it up... probably. If you notice that I did something that doesn't seem right, feel free to call me a dumbass in the comments!


	4. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison is Alive and well, which is really weird since the last time the pack saw her she was busy getting stabbed by some Japanese demon warrior thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Woo! I'm going to try and keep with getting these chapters out at least once a week. Take that with a grain of salt, BUT I will absolutely do my best!

The phone slipped right out of Stiles’ hand and landed with a soft thud onto one of the cushioned chairs. Stiles stared down at the phone as flashes of blood and death filled his mind. He shivered as ghostly ice water enveloped his body. A soft, invisible hand caressed his face in one slow, almost soothing, stroke before it wrapped around his throat and started to squeeze. Stiles convulsed at the sudden lack of air as something dark inside of him seethed with vengeful joy.

“Stiles? Stiles!” Scott called out as he barged past the reception desk and threw two of the chairs that made up Stiles’ makeshift bed. He pulled Stiles’ freezing body into a hug as he said, “Come on, buddy, breath with me.”

Scott’s warmth cut through the nonexistent water, forcing the invisible hand to let of Stiles and disappear. Stiles gasped for air as his body shuddered back to reality. The young man pulled his arms around his best friend. They took a moment to just hold each other and breath before Stiles started to pull away.

“What happened?” Scott asked. “I could feel you panic from the backroom, and when I got out here you were pale and ice cold. Was it the spark? I thought you were able to get control of it.”

“I- I did,” Stiles started before shaking his head. “I do. I just wasn’t ready.”

“Ready for wh-“ Scott started before another voice spoke on Stiles’ phone.

“Hello?” Allison said from the phone.

All the air left Scott’s lungs as if he had just had his stomach punched. He turned to the phone, and then back to Stiles. His eyes had gone from their usual warm brown to alpha red. He moved slowly as he gently picked up the phone. It shook as he brought his shivering hand up to his face.

“Hello?” Allison said again.

“Allison?” Scott asked.

“Scott?” Allison answered.

“That’s not- This can’t be-“

“I know,” Allison said. “I don’t know what’s going on, or how I’m here. I just knew to walk into this coffee shop, and there was Lydia. She looks a little different, but I recognized her immediately. Then she saw me, and she screamed, and I need help, Scott. I don’t know what’s happening.” Her voice grew more and more brittle as she spoke into Scott’s ear until she finally broke down and started to cry.

“I’m coming to get you two right now,” Scott replied. “Just give me about thirty minutes.”

“Okay,” Allison said.

“I’m going to hang up now,” Scott said. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

He waited for Allison’s affirmative and pressed the end call. He handed the phone back to Stiles who was still sitting in front of him. It was as if Stiles was forcibly frozen to the spot.

“I’m going to close the clinic and get Allison and Lydia. Are you going to be okay?” Scott asked.

“Uh,” Stiles answered.

Scott took a breath to help calm his shaking before grabbing Stiles by both shoulders and looking into his eyes.

“Why don’t you call Derek?” Scott asked. “We should have a pack meeting. We can have it at the loft.”

“Oh, okay,” Stiles answered timidly. “Yea, I’ll do that.” He clenched his eyes shut for moment and shook his head. “Okay. I’m okay.”

“Good,” Scott said. “Let’s get going then.”

“Wait,” Stiles said as he grabbed Scott’s arm as they both started to get up. “What about our amnesiac werewolf friend?”

“Shit,” Scott said. He had completely forgotten about her when he saw Stiles’ episode. “I’ll take her with,” he answered.

“Okay, cool,” Stiles said.

The two finally got off of what was left of Stiles’ make shift bed. Stiles put the chairs back in their places as Scott quickly scrawled a note to Dr. Deaton to let the man know why he was leaving. The woman came out amidst the cleaning and getting ready to leave. Scott gave her a quick rundown as to what they were doing, and she just nodded and followed behind as the three of them walked out of the vet office.

“I’ll see you soon,” Scott told Stiles as they gave a quick hug goodbye. Stiles just nodded when they let go of each other, and walked back to his jeep.

Once Stiles was inside he gave himself another moment to let his nerves writhe with anxiety before taking a couple breaths to calm down. He pulled his phone out and started to type in a number to call.

“Hello?” said the tired voice of a young man just after two rings.

“Damien?” Stiles asked.

“This is he,” Damien answered.

“Hi, Damien,” Stiles started. “An emergency came up, and neither Lydia, nor I can make it work. Do you think you could come in today and hold down the fort until I come in tonight?”

“Yea, okay,” Damien said. “I can be there in under an hour, is that okay?”

“Thank you so much, Damien,” Stiles said as he pumped his fist in victory. “I’ll try and be there around seven.”

“Yea, yea, go deal with your life or death situation,” Damien said before hanging up.

Stiles looked at the phone for a moment before shrugging off the young man’s words. He tapped at his phone some before it started to ring again.

“Stiles, you can’t be calling me while I’m on patrol,” Derek said without a greeting. “Also, I’m on my way to grab some trespassers on my family property, so this takes precedent.”

“Allison is alive,” Stiles replied.

“Fuck!” Derek said. Stiles could hear the sound of someone honking, and then the sirens of Derek’s vehicle roaring to life. “I’m on my way to the loft.” Stiles didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Derek ended the call. The young man just shook his head, and started his car. It took only about ten minutes until he was parking next to Derek’s police cruiser in the Hale Apartments parking lot. Stiles stepped out of his jeep and headed towards the leasing office.

The leasing office wasn’t very large. It consisted of only three rooms. The reception desk took up most of the first room, two chairs took up another portion, and Cora Hale or Stacy Abrams took up the rest. Past the desk was a short hallway and two doors on opposite sides of each other. The one on the right lead to a small office where Stacy went over leasing or hiring, and the door on the left opened up to Derek’s newly installed private elevator.

Stiles opened the door of the office just to be thrown back by the scent of Stacy’s perfume. “Oh my god,” Stiles said as he walked into the room. He put his hand up to his nose and pinched it tightly to keep more of the smell out. He quickly stepped over to the reception desk and rang the little bell that was placed on the corner. Just down the hall the right door swung open, and a shockingly tall woman stepped out. The brightness of her pink skirt and jacket was almost as strong on Stiles’ eyes as the perfume was to his nose.

“Oh my gosh! Stiles, darling,” Stacy drawled as she walked over to the desk. Her curling blonde hair bounced with each step as the near giantess walked closer. “Mister Derek was just telling me that you and some more of your cute little pack were coming in today.”

“Why does everything smell like roses?” Stiles asked. His nose was still pinched.

“Oh my gosh,” Stacy said again as she brought her immaculately manicured hand to her face. “I was about to interview this sweet girl for the night security, and wanted to freshen up, and I just broke my favorite bottle of perfume all over myself and the floor. I haven’t had time to clean it up since the interview is still going.” She sat down at the desk chair and quickly typed into the computer as she continued to speak. “She’s such a cute little thing. She doesn’t have much for credentials, but she sure makes these mean barriers out of cloth. I think she’ll make a great addition.”

“That’s awesome, Stacy,” Stiles said with an exasperated grin. “Can you let me in to see Derek?”

“Oh, dear me,” The blonde said. “I’m sorry about that.” She swiveled her chair to press a button under the desk before she stood back up. “The door should be unlocked now. Talk to you later, Stiles.”

“Thank you Stacy,” Stiles said as he followed behind her. He opened the left door into another hallway. Stiles walked over to the elevator doors at the end of the hall, and pressed his code into a small keypad. The elevator dinged as he finished entering the code, and opened up its doors to let Stiles in.

Derek changed a lot of the apartment complex since he first bought the place back when most of the pack was still in high school. After having his loft broken into so many times, Derek finally agreed that he needed to change things if he was going to stay. It first started with moving the leasing office so he could install his private elevator. Each pack member was given a separate key code which they had to type in both when going up to his loft and when they wanted to go back down. After that was finished Derek decided to put his family name on the actual apartment complex and had all of the apartments fully refurbished to suit any family. And suit any family it did. With the help of Stacy Abrams, an acquaintance of Stiles’ after he left college to better study his spark, who vetted each family before putting together any renting agreements, the building was filled with supernatural families from all walks of life. Stiles still remembered when everything was still being planned and Derek said, “I just want to make a space where families can live in peace like my family should have.”

Stiles literally jumped out of his reminiscing as the elevator pinged again and slid its doors open to the newly designed loft, and a very shirtless Derek Hale.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said for what felt like the billionth time as he put his hands over his eyes and walked out of the elevator.

“Sorry,” Derek said with a roll of his eyes that Stiles couldn’t see. He quickly turned and put on a wife beater he had pulled from a drawer. “Stacy broke her perfume,” Derek said.

“I know,” Stiles replied as he pulled down his hand. He kept his view off of Derek as much as he could. “I can still smell it.”

“I won’t be able to smell anything for the rest of the day,” Derek said back. He walked over to his closet door and pulled one of the extra uniform shirts he had. “So,” he started as he buttoned up the shirt, “Allison’s alive.” Stiles’ eyes met Derek’s at that. Derek could see the guilt swimming behind the younger man’s honey brown eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Stiles started before taking a deep breath. “We’ll see,” he answered.

Derek walked over to Stiles and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure it will be okay,” Derek said as his hand gave a reassuring squeeze. Stiles’ heart fluttered for the barest moment, but both of the men ignored it.

“That reminds me,” Stiles said as he slipped out of Derek’s grasp and walked over to the kitchenette. “Scott is also bringing a stray wolf with him. I hope it’s okay.” The younger man opened up a nearby cupboard to pull out a glass, and filled it with water from a dispenser connected to the refrigerator. “She has amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Derek asked as he moved back to the closet to grab his belt and work shoes.

“I know, right?” Stiles said. “How does a werewolf get full blown memory loss?”

The elevator pinged again, and four people stepped out. First was a disheveled Lydia. Her reddish hair was starting to look frizzy from touching it too much out of stress. Second was Scott as he held onto a still seventeen year old Allison Argent. Stiles held on tight to the glass of water so he wouldn’t drop it out of shock.

Before anyone could say a word, Derek launched himself at the elevator and the woman left inside of it. The woman roared out a warning at the sudden affront, stopping Derek in his tracks. He just stared at the woman in quiet shock.

“Laura” he finally said.

“What?” the woman said.

“Wait,” Stiles blurted out. “Laura Hale?”

“That’s my name?” the woman, Laura asked as her hands grabbed at her shirt and started to pull the fabric down. “Laura Hale,” she said to herself. She said her name a couple more times, as if she were tasting the way the words mixed together in her mouth, when she suddenly froze in place. Everyone in the room just watched as her eyes widened for a moment before taking on a sharper look. She looked at Derek again and said, “You’re my brother.”

Derek took that moment to walk closer to Laura until he could wrap his arms around her in a hug. Laura stayed frozen for a moment before she embraced her brother and started to cry.

“Derek, I’m so sorry,” She sobbed. “Our uncle, Peter. He caught me off guard. Our own family. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Derek said. “It’s not your fault. You’re here now.”

“But how?” Laura said mid sob.

“Isn’t that the million dollar question?” Lydia said from the couch she had moved to. “My best friend is back from the grave, eight years later, and she looks just as she did when she died.”

“Eight years?” Allison spoke up. “I’ve been dead for eight years?” Scott winced at her pained tone. “I knew you looked different, but I didn’t think it was because everyone was busy growing up!”

“Sorry?” Scott tried.

“I am so sorry,” Stiles all but cried out from the kitchenette. “I’m so sorry I killed you.”

“Wait,” Allison started as she pushed Scott off of her to walk over to Stiles. “You of all people are not to blame for my death.”

“But I set the Oni on you,” Stiles whimpered.

“No, that _Thing_ that possessed you set the Oni on me,” the girl stated as she wrapped her arms around Stiles. “I’m glad to know that you were able to beat it.”

“It was so hard,” Stiles cried into her shoulder.

“I know, but I’m here now and everything is okay,” she consoled. “I mean, I can’t drink with all of you because I’m still seventeen, and that is very frustrating, but everything else is okay.”

“We need to start looking into why and how you two are alive,” Lydia stated. “This reunion is great, but we don’t know how you came back or if this is a temporary return.”

Stiles could feel Allison stiffen at Lydia’s words. Anxiety wafted off of her like a mist. Stiles gave her a quick squeeze before letting go.

“Lydia’s right,” Scott said. “We need a game plan”

“Scott,” Lydia started, “Where’s Kira?”

“Shit!” Scott yelled as he pulled out his phone and ran to the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I just wanted to say that I stopped watching the show after Nogitsune Stiles season, and I haven't watched the show in YEARS. So, I'm taking a lot of creative liberties here because 1. I want to and I can 2. It's a canon divergence AU anyway so that's cool. And 3. I just don't remember what things happened where and when anymore so I'm going to type that I'm shrugging because you can't see me shrugging. Hope you liked the chapter and feel free to leave a comment! Especially if I messed something up, or you notice a plot hole I completely skipped over!


	5. Sleeping Ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has things to do, and Stiles really needs a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is coming in a bit later than I would have liked, but meh, what can I do? I actually was having a hard time making sure that all of my plot strings were attached properly, but I was able to figure it all out after reading some Sterek fics that a friend recommended to me. So the story continues!

“I said I get it!” Kira nearly yelled from the opening elevator doors.

“I know, but-“ Scott started.

“If you try to apologize one more time, I will literally electrocute you,” Kira snapped.

“Hello to you too,” Stiles said just a few feet away.

Kira gave Stiles a quick hug as she said, “Sorry, and hi, Stiles,” and continued to the couch where Lydia and Allison were quietly catching up.

“You okay, buddy?” Stiles asked Scott as his best friend moped over to him.

“Yea, it’s fine,” Scott sighed.

Stiles just nodded in understanding. He knew very well what his best friend meant by “It’s fine”. Scott and Kira had already been getting on each other’s nerves on many occasions for the last month or so, and having an ex return from the dead probably didn’t make things any less turbulent. Stiles pat his friends shoulder as Derek walked over as he got off the phone.

“I should still meet up with your dad and see who was on the property,” Derek said.

“Yea, that’s a good plan,” Stiles said. “Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky and find more family back.”

“Maybe,” Derek said, but his face told Stiles that he wasn’t hopeful.

Stiles put a hand on Derek’s shoulder like Derek had to him just a little while earlier and gave it a quick squeeze before saying, “You never know. We may not know what’s going on, but we don’t have to assume it’s entirely bad.”

Derek looked up from his shoulder to Stiles face and gave a small smile. Stiles heart thudded again like it had before, and he just attempted to hide it with a cough as he turned back to Scott. Derek ducked his head and stepped towards the elevator with a quiet sigh.

Laura stepped in sync with her brother as she caught up to Derek.

“I’ll come with you,” she said as they entered the elevator. “Plus, you can catch me up on everything I missed during my, uh, passing.”

Stiles watched the doors close from the corner of his eyes before turning back to the rest of the group.

“France?” Allison said, “Together?”

“I think you were the last straw,” Lydia answered. “Your dad had no reason to stay here, and Isaac needed to just be somewhere else.”

“Okay, sure, but where am I going to stay?” Allison asked.

“With me of course,” Lydia replied. “There’s enough room in my bed for two, or you can take the couch in the living room.”

“Or-“, Scott started, but Kira cut him off.

“That sounds like a great plan!” She said with forced enthusiasm. “I’m sure once your dad is here he’ll put you up with him in a hotel room until everything is figured out. Until then, why not stay with a friend?”

“Yea,” Allison said.

“Why don’t we stop by the mall and get you some new clothes after you call your dad?” Lydia said. Allison just nodded her head.

“I’ll take you two!” Kira said without missing a beat. “Stiles, you don’t mind taking Scott back to the clinic, do you?”

Stiles watched his best friend deflate more and more, and shook his head.

“Yea, I’ll take him,” he said as he turned Scott towards the elevator. “I should go check on Damien and see how the café is doing. Come on buddy.” He patted his friend on the back to coax him forward. Both young men typed in their pass codes into the elevator terminal, and the doors opened with a ping. The way down and to Stiles’ jeep was quiet except for a quick goodbye from Stacy just before they exited the building. It wasn’t until Stiles was parking his jeep in the parking lot of the veterinary clinic that Scott fished out a small, black, felt box.

“I’ve been planning on proposing all month,” he said.

“Holy shit, Scott,” Stiles said as he stared at the box in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Yea…”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Scott sighed. “I keep getting all nervous around her, and now she knows something’s going on and I can’t get myself to do it.” His shoulders slumped as he spoke. “I know I just need to do it…”

“I’m sure you’ll find the right moment to ask Kira, man,” Stiles said as he wrapped an arm around Scott’s shoulders. “Just try to calm down on the being weird around her, and she’ll stop snapping at you. You two are great together.”

“Thanks, Stiles,” Scott said with a smile growing on his face. Stiles let go of Scott so he could get out of the jeep. “Good luck at the café, man,” he called back as he walked towards the clinic. Stiles just waved, and watched until Scott was through the door before starting his jeep back up and driving over to Student’s Café.

The café wasn’t bustling, but it wasn’t an exam week. So, that’s not surprising. Still, the place was fairly busy for just after noon. Most of the tables were taken by young men and women with laptops and notebooks, creating a clicking melody from each tap of someone’s keyboard.

Everything was going smoothly to Stiles’ surprise. Damien stood at the front counter, taking orders with a kind smile that reached his shocking dark brown eyes. A couple of drinks were on the back counter waiting to be finished, but they didn’t look like they were there long. As the two latest customers moved from the counter to find tables, Damien moved back to the unfinished drinks with such grace he could have been floating. It was just moments more before the barista had the drinks finished and was calling out the names on the orders. He paused for a moment when he caught sight of Stiles, and waved him over.

“You’re here early,” Damien said.

“I’m only going to be here for a moment,” Stiles said. “Just came to check up on you, but I can see I didn’t need to.”

“Thanks,” Damian said with a growing smile. “I’m a quick learner.” His face changed to one of concern a moment later as he asked, “How’s your amnesiac friend? Has she gotten any memory of herself back yet?”

“Oh, yea,” Stiles answered. “I think she’s going to be okay. She just needs some time to adjust.”

“Ah, well that’s good to hear,” Damien said before turning to a new customer to get their order.

Stiles nodded and moved on to the small office that was hidden behind a door in an empty corner of the store. As he entered the office, he could feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. The young man pulled it out to see that the caller was his dad.

“Dad?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles, I’ve got an odd question to ask you,” John Stilinski started.

“Does it have to do with people from our past returning from the dead?” Stiles asked with a yawn. He sat down at his desk chair, stretching out as much as he could in the cramped space.

“Yes,” his dad answered.

“I’ve got nothing so far, and I haven’t gotten any sleep yet,” Stiles said. “So, I’m probably not going to be able start figuring this out till tomorrow. Who did you find?”

“Erica Reyes, and Vernon Boyd,” John answered.

“Oh, oh!” Stiles exclaimed. “That’s great! How’s Derek handling it?”

“He’s currently choking them back to death with a hug,” John said.

Stiles chuckled at the thought of two teen betas having their ex-emotionally stunted alpha pulling them into a crushing hug. It warmed his heart to think about how happy Derek must be feeling in that moment.

“As happy a moment this is, I don’t think we should be celebrating yet,” Stiles’ dad interrupted. “You don’t have any ideas about what could be causing people to come back to life?”

“Again,” Stiles said, “too tired to really put any thought into it.” He yawned before he continued, “I’m pretty sure we can rule out any basic necromancy since everyone has come back looking whole and healthy. Maybe something divine?”

“Are we talking divine, or The Divine?”

“I don’t know Dad,” Stiles answered honestly. “I think both could pull something like this, but why here?”

“Did you piss anymore off?”

“That was one time, and Lydia still owes me for getting her out of that. Did I mention that Allison is alive, too? She’s going to stay with Lydia and me,” Stiles rubbed at his eyes as he spoke. His exhaustion was starting to get the best of him. “I’m sorry, Dad, but I gotta get a nap in before my shift tonight. I’ll call you on my break?”

“Sure thing, kiddo,” his dad said. The two said their “I love yous” and hung up. Stiles sighed for a moment and stared at the paperwork he had planned on doing. He just groaned and got up instead.

“I’ll be back at about seven,” he called out to Damien as he walked out of the office and headed to the front doors.

“Sure thing, boss-man,” Damien called back.

Stiles got back into his jeep and drove the five minutes it took to get back to his apartment complex. He could feel the lingering tensions from the morning sticking to the walls and furniture. The young man was too tired to do much about it, so he opened up all the two windows in the living room with the hope that the outside air would help dissipate the oily energies. He continued on to his bedroom, kicking off his shoes as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t worry about taking off anything else as he crawled under the warm blanket, and rested his head on one of his only two plain, white pillows. In mere moments he was asleep.

Stiles’ dreams were not kind to him. As he delved deeper and deeper into his subconscious, so did his past nightmares. It started with Gerard Argent beating him bloody as two very scared werewolves watched from their electrified tethers. Stiles watched his younger self yelp and groan as he was punched, kicked, and slapped around. He watched as blood dripped from a bloody lip, and bruises slowly painted themselves across his body. He felt more than saw as a deep rage filled his fallen form. Stiles sighed, and tried to turn away, but it only caused the dream to change.

Suddenly, Stiles was in a parking garage. A not yet dead Peter Hale was walking away from the boy after threatening to bite him. Stiles watched himself as he opened and clenched his hands in embarrassed rage as he held back tears from how scared he was just a few minutes before. Stiles tried to walk closer, but the dream only pushed the scene further away.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he said to himself. “Things are going to scare you more times than you can count, but you’re going to face them and you’re going to come out okay.”

“Am I?” dream Stiles asked with a suddenly too wide smile. “Am I really going to turn out okay?”

As dream Stiles spoke, the parking garage evaporated into a thick mist before solidifying into Scott’s vet clinic. Scott leaned to the side of the counter as he tried to keep himself standing. A broken blade protruded out from his stomach.

“Stop,” Stiles told himself.

“Was I okay when I did this?” dream Stiles asked. “Was I okay when I betrayed my best friend? What about when I killed Allison?”

“I didn’t do those things,” Stiles said, but his voice was shaky. “It was-“

“The nogitsune?” dream Stiles mused. “You think a little fly was enough to cause all this damage, Stiles? You know so much better than that.”

The room slowly grew dark as the walks sank into freezing black water.

“You aren’t real,” Stiles forced out.

“I’m a part of you Stiles,” his dream self said as he brushed a pale hand across Stiles’ face. “Of course I’m real.” Dream Stiles wrapped his hand around Stiles throat and started to squeeze. “And with all your guilt, and hatred, and frustration, I’m going to grow so much stronger.” Stiles simply gurgled and watched as the black water swallowed his dream self whole before swallowing him up as well. “Accept that you can’t control me, Stiles,” he heard himself say. “Let yourself go.”

“No,” came a second, familiar voice.

Before Stiles had a chance to recognize the voice, his eyes were open and he was pushing the sweat-soaked blanket off of his body. Stiles looked around the dark room before turning on a lamp next to his bed. He looked down at his completely soaked shirt and pants with shocked disgust.

“What the fuck?” was all Stiles could say. He pulled out his phone from one of his pockets, wiping the screen off with a dry patch on his sheet before he checked the time. The time read 6:57pm.

“Shit fuck!” Stiles cried out, and ran to get ready for work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, poor Stiles. Hope he'll be alright. Who is this dark, alternate-Stiles? Who said "no"? Does aReveur have any idea as to what he's doing? Probably not, but find out next week, hopefully!


	6. Revenge of the Exes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles catches up with some old enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say a week? I meant a day. I got waaaaaaayy overly excited writing this chapter. So, I'm posting it now because I can and I want to. Enjoy!

Damien Smith was very good at his job. He knew when someone needed a smile, and when someone else just needed their order taken care of as quickly as possible. He just knew what every person needed, and made sure to keep each and every customer at Student’s Café happy. He was just a people person. Damien also understood that people under a lot of stress were less than likely to make it to their shifts on time. So, Damien simply continued to work the counter until Stiles showed up in a hurricane of limbs and gasps nearly fifty minutes past the time he claimed he would have arrive.

“I am so sorry,” Stiles said between gasps for air. “I had a crazy nightmare, and had to clean sweat off of everything.”

Damien tilted his head a little before asking, “What could have happened in your dreams to cause that?”

Stiles just shook his head and shrugged before walking over to the office to grab an apron. Damien nodded and took a couple more orders from the counter before placing the orders next to the cups. He removed his own apron and started heading back to the office as well.

“Sorry again for being late,” Stiles said as Damien walked in.

“These things do happen, boss-man,” Damien said with a shrug. He hung up his apron before waving at Stiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and walked out.

Stiles grunted a quick affirmative as he slung his own apron over himself and tied the strings behind him. He started walking out of the office before pausing to look at Damien’s apron. There wasn’t a single mark or sign of a spill on the entire apron. No sign of sweat from moving too much or stress. It didn’t even have a wrinkle on it. Stiles stared at it inquisitively for a moment longer before a bell at the counter rang. Stiles quickly rushed over to the single cash register and picked up a notepad.

“Hello, what can I get for y-“, Stiles started to say before looking at a very living Kate Argent.

Her black jacket and jeans didn’t give away a single hint as to if she was armed. The hunter didn’t seem cautious as she had both hands planted along the wood counter. Scratch marks were visible across her bare neck where Peter Hale had opened her throat and killed her.

“Can I get a black coffee?” Kate asked as she nearly loomed over the counter. “I’m so thirsty I could die.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer water?” Stiles asked with a faux smile. “I would hate for you to scald your throat.”

“Well isn’t that sweet of you,” Kate said with a smile of her own, “but I prefer something with a little more bite than some water.”

Stiles bristled a little at Kate’s words, and the café took notice. As Stiles continued his conversation with the newly revived werewolf hunter, the rest of the customers slowly realized that they had other places they needed to be. In minutes, as Stiles rang up Kate’s order and poured her coffee, the café emptied itself of all its patrons.

“So, Kate Argent is back from the dead,” Stiles said as he handed her the mug of coffee.

“Back, and oh so much better than ever,” she said as she took a sip of her coffee. “I hear I’m not the only one either. Tell me, Stiles, should I be expecting to burn another Hale property down?”

Stiles glared at the deadly woman as she stepped away from the counter to sit at a table just next to the exit. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was to give her an escape, or to keep him from escaping. He took a deep breath and willed his magic to connect with the already enchanted café. His senses changed as his awareness stretched and spread across the room.

Kate just tsked at Stiles before taking another sip of her coffee. “A little magic trick isn’t going to keep you from me, Stiles,” she said. “Plus, I’m not even here for you. I’m just waiting for my new gal pal while she finishes running an errand.”

“What errand?” Stiles asked with as little enthusiasm as possible. He slowly pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it with his thumb.

“I’m sure you’ll see very soon,” Kate answered. “Now why don’t you put the phone down? It’s not polite to text someone while you’re in the middle of a conversation.”

Stiles froze for just a moment before pressing the call button on his emergency contact. Before the tone could affirm that the call was going through, Kate was out of her chair. She moved faster than Stiles expected. She had already closed the space by half when she tripped over a chair. Kate stumbled for a moment, but kept moving forward. As she twisted around another chair, her body bumped into a table. With a frustrated growl, she flipped the table with a single hand. The table rose and fell, hitting the edge of another table. The other table tipped with such force, it launched an empty mug back at Kate’s head.

The tone finally went off, giving Stiles a moment of hope.

Kate smacked the mug before it could hit her, and stepped forward just to bump her leg into another chair. Her growl quickly changed to a roar of frustrated rage as she smashed the chair with a fist. Stiles kept his eyes on Kate the whole time, making sure the focus of his spell was entirely on her. The woman stepped closer and closer to him, destroying every object she bumped into. It was just a moment or two more before Kate would be on top of Stiles.

“Hello?” came a voice from the phone.

Stiles hit the speaker button before dropping the phone onto the ground and kicking it away from himself. As he did so, Kate grabbed his arms and pulled them back behind him. Stiles tried to kick her, but she just sighed as she started to drag him out from behind the counter.

The young man took a deep breath before bellowing, “Help!” as loud as he possibly could.

“Shut up,” Kate snapped as she smacked the back of his head. The force of the blow was strong enough to break his focus as everything went blurry for a moment.

The huntress pulled Stiles out of his café and onto the city block. It was surprisingly empty for being just after eight o’clock. Kate watched as people and cars walked towards the two of them, only to suddenly turn right or left before entering the actual block. She hummed in self satisfaction as Stiles tried to shake his arms loose of her grip.

“Good luck with that,” Kate said before she kicked Stiles’ feet out from under him.

“How?” Stiles asked as he landed on the sidewalk.

“Aw, sweetie,” Kate cooed as she ruffled his hair with her free hand. “I told you I came back better than ever.” She put her hand into one of her jacket pockets and pulled out a gray ribbon. It didn’t look like much, but the moment she started to wrap the fabric around his wrists Stiles could feel his magic being cut off from the rest of him.

Stiles tried to jerk around and struggle, but Kate simply overpowered him. Once the ribbon was secured, she pulled a small length of rope from her other jacket pocket. The woman kneeled down to wrap the rope around his ankles.

After checking to make sure that everything was secure, Kate stood up and pulled a phone out of a pant pocket. She tapped on it for a few seconds before bringing it up to her ear.

“Hello?” she started. “Yea, I got him. Pain in my ass, but I got him. Where are you?” Stiles wasn’t close enough to hear the other voice. “Shit,” Kate said. “Well, getting him mattered more, anyway. How long until you get here?” There was another long pause as the other voice spoke. “Alright, see you-“, Kate started, but cut off as she watched a bright pink convertible turn onto the street. “Someone’s here,” she said into the phone before hanging up and putting it back into her pocket.

The pink car stopped and parked just a few feet from where Kate and Stiles were. As the headlights shut off, the driver-side door opened and Stacy Abrams stepped out. The giant woman took a moment to fluff her platinum blonde hair, and press a couple wrinkles out of her pencil skirt. Kate started to step towards the other woman, but stopped when she realized just how tall Stacy actually was. Even if she wasn’t wearing her usual six inch heels, she towered a good two feet at least over Kate.

“Hi, Stacy,” Stiles called out from behind Kate.

Stacy looked over to see Stiles on the ground, and her face scrunched in concern.

“Stiles, darling,” she drawled in her fake accent as she walked forward, “what are you doing down there?”

“Excuse me,” Kate said as the tall woman got closer.

Before Kate could say another word, Stacy backhanded her across the street.

“Are you alright,” Stacy asked as she walked over to Stiles. “Let’s get these off of you,” she said as she tore the grey ribbon that was tied to Stiles’ wrists.

Stiles turned to thank the pink lady, but she jumped back as Kate lunged at her. He turned back around and worked on untying his feet.

Kate punched and kicked at the taller lady, but each blow was stopped by Stacy’s hands. Stacy landed another slap across Kate’s face which caused the woman to spin with the force. Once she got her bearings back, Kate turned and ran towards Stiles. Before she had the chance to even touch him, Stacy had the huntress by the hair and threw her across the street again.

Stiles, finally, got the knot of rope untied and stood up just in time to watch Kate fly over his head. He didn’t even realize he was smiling when she fell in a heap. He felt something tug deep in his stomach and suddenly started to tie the rope back into a knot. Kate stood back up just as Stiles finished. She tried to step forward, but with a jerk of the knot is Stiles’ hands, her feet slid together and she fell back to the floor. Stiles chuckled at Kate as she screamed in frustration. She tried to crawl towards him, but Stiles would just push the knot away from him, and she would slide back. Stiles giggled to himself as the image of Kate being flung about by her ankles entered his head. He lifted the knot above his head, and her legs went up with it.

Before Stiles made another move, a manicured hand was on his shoulder. He turned to see Stacy with another concerned look on her face.

“Stiles,” she said in a soft tone.

Stiles looked up into her ocean blue eyes before blinking a couple times. He shook his head, and lowered the knot of rope.

“What?” Stiles asked himself as he stared at his hands. “What happened?”

“A question for another time,” Stacy said as she shoved Stiles.

The young man fell down onto the street, scraping his hands as he caught himself. He turned back to the pink lady, and a gray, smoky tentacle tendrilled up from where he had been standing. It wrapped around Stacy’s body with blinding speed. Stacy just pouted as she was left immobile.

“Finally,” Kate yelled from where she was still on the ground.

Stiles turned in the direction that Kate was yelling to see Jennifer Blake walking towards them. Her white blouse was stained with dirt, and there was an obvious tear on her jeans at her right knee. She pulled a long twig from her hair and tossed it away.

Floating behind her was an unconscious Derek and Laura in their own smoky tentacle-cages.

“Shut up, Kate,” Jennifer said as she snapped her fingers.

The knot that Stiles was holding disintegrated into ash.

Stiles started to focus his energy again, but another tendril wrapped around him before he had any chance to do anything. He slumped into the tight embrace of the smoke tentacle, defeated.

“I thought this was supposed to be easier,” Kate said as she got herself back up off the street.

“You didn’t think about things changing since we’ve been gone,” Jennifer explained. “Who knows what they went through after we died.”

“Always teaching someone,” Stiles quipped.

“Shut up,” Jennifer said and the tentacle tightened just enough to make Stiles gasp in pain. The Darach, or whatever Jennifer was now, beckoned Stacy and Stiles over. The two rose a few inches into the air, and floated over to her.

“What do you want with us?” Stiles asked.

“Other than revenge?” Kate said. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That is why I asked,” Stiles retorted.

Kate moved to slap Stiles, but Stacy’s backhand made it to her face first. The hunter flew black until she hit a wall this time, and slumped over unconscious.

Jennifer turned to the tall woman with another spell already swinging at her, but it dissipated in her hand as Stacy took her face in both hands and kissed her. At first, Jennifer jumped and tried to pull herself away from the pink lady, but her body seemed to fail her as she relaxed.

Stacy slowly pulled away from a very drunk looking Jennifer, and patted her cheek.

“Would you be a dear,” Stacy drawled, “and let everyone go?”

Jennifer just gave Stacy a dumb smile and nodded her head as the smoke that held Stiles, Derek, and Laura disappeared.

“You’re sweet,” Stacy said as she gave a quick peck to Jennifer’s lips.

Before Stiles knew it, he was sitting next to Stacy as she started her car. He spun behind him to find the Hale siblings leaning against each other. Stacy gave his cheek a quick pat after seeing the worry on his face.

“They’re going to be fine, darling,” she said before switch gears to drive.

“What did you do to Jennifer?” Stiles asked as they passed said woman, still standing in the street with a stupid smile on her face.

“Nothing that someone like her won’t be able to break out of in a few more minutes,” she said as she drove without looking back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. THAT happened! I hope Erica, Boyd, and the sheriff are okay! I also hope you all had fun reading this chapter as much as I had fun writing it! I also, mostly, promise to still have another chapter out next week! Hopefully with some Stiles and Derek bonding time, but who knows. I know I sure don't!


	7. Wake-Up, Sweetie, Disaster is Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden return to Derek's Loft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I would have another chapter out this week! I busted this one out while hanging out at a Starbucks for, like, six hours, and I got a head start into the next chapter. So, you might get that within a day or two!

John Stilinski paced back and forth from Derek’s closet, all the way to the elevator doors. Boyd and Erica simply sat on the couch and watched him, not fully understanding what was going on and too nervous to ask about it. John had already tried to call Stiles at least ten times, but didn’t get any answer. He knew in his heart that Stiles was in trouble, and drove as quickly as he could to Derek’s apartment complex to ask the security team for help, but Stacy was already gone when he got there. Instead, the sheriff found a small woman in a baggy, black, poncho he had never seen before. He gave his code to the new girl and she buzzed him, and the two werewolf teens he was able to keep away from Jennifer Blake, into the elevator and up to Derek’s loft.

Jennifer Blake, John thought to himself. How was she alive? Didn’t Stiles say that Peter had killed her?

After an incident where John had gotten himself caught up with a woman who turned out to be an incubus that was slowly sucking his life energy in a way that he really wishes Stiles didn’t know about, Stiles finally spilled the beans on everything supernatural in Beacon Hills and its surroundings. What he wasn’t ready for was learning that his own son was not only one of these supernatural beings, but that he’s been putting himself in the middle of all the danger since he was in high school.

The elevator pinged just as John was turning away from the doors for the hundredth time, and Stiles stumbled into the loft with a limp deputy Hale draped over his back. Stacy came out just behind John’s son, carrying Laura Hale like a newly married bride.

John helped lift Derek up so he wouldn’t slip off of Stiles, and the two of them carried him over to the couch. Both Erica and Boyd jumped out of the way as Derek and Laura were leaning on opposite sides of the sofa. As Derek landed on the couch, both Stiles and John let go of him before grabbing each other and pulling themselves into a tight hug.

“I called you at least ten times,” Stiles’ father said.

“Kate Argent caught me, and I had to drop it after calling Stay for help,” Stiles answered.

“Kate Argent is alive?” John said as he gave Stiles a quick once over to look for any injuries. Excluding a couple of marks on his wrists, and some tears on his pants, he looked mostly fine.

“I’m okay, Dad,” Stiles promised. “I don’t think she was trying to hurt me. Just take me somewhere.”

John opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Stiles just shook his head.

“We should wait for Derek and Laura to wake up,” Stiles said. “And someone needs to call Scott, Kira, and Lydia to make sure they’re okay and to come back here.”

John nodded slowly, and let go of his son.

Stiles started to turn back to the unconscious Hales when his head snapped in the other direction to look at the two teens practically hiding in a corner of the loft. Boyd kept a cool stare as he watched everyone everything go on. Erica pretended to check her nails on her right hand. Still, Stiles didn’t need his Spark to tell that the two of them were nervous. The two werewolves were nearly plastered to each other, their hands latched to each other as if they couldn’t let go even if they tried.

Stiles took a moment to take a deep breath before marching over to the couple. They both flinched back a little as Stiles got closer, but all that was left behind them was a wall they bumped into. As the young man got within reach, Stiles pulled them both close to him before breaking down into sobs.

“Um,” Both Boyd and Erica said.

“I’m so happy to see you two of you,” Stiles cried. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened. I should have fought harder to keep you here. Maybe then the alpha pack wouldn’t have caught you. I’m so sorry. You deserved so much better than that.” Stiles tried to say more, but it was too hard to talk and cry at the same time.

At his words, Erica wrapped her hands around Stiles waist, and started to cry into his shoulder. Boyd kept silent, but he put his arm around Stiles’ shoulder and gently tapped his head against the side of Stiles’.

“I’m so glad to see you two back,” Stiles said with a shaky breath.

“We’re glad to be back,” Erica said into Stiles’ chest.

The three let go of their embrace, and Erica gave Stiles a once over. Stiles definitely wasn’t the same as he had been when they were in high school together. With all of the supernatural chaos that happened seemingly every season, Stiles had filled out with more muscle. His hair was more grown out and unkempt no matter how Stiles tried to keep it together. Erica carded her fingers through his hair, and another cow lick started to form.

“You look good, Batman,” Erica said with a fond smile.

“You look sly as ever, Catwoman,” Stiles responded with a smile of his own. The two hugged one more time before Stiles turned to go check on Derek and Laura.

Stacy had her hands on both of Laura’s cheeks, and her eyes were closed. Laura’s face had changed from its peaceful slumber to something more pinched and annoyed. It was like she was fighting Stacy to stay asleep.

Stiles stood next to Derek’s sleeping form as he watched Stacy work her literal magic. John put a hand on his son’s shoulder to help comfort Stiles.

Everyone watched and waited silently. It was another couple of long minutes before Stacy lifted one of her hands from Laura’s face, just to slap her across it with enough force to make the woman gasp and open her eyes.

Laura was half shifted and roaring in Stacy’s face just a second after, and Stacy just tutted as she patted the reddening cheek.

“I’m not your mom, dear,” the pink lady said. “If I tell you to wake up, you need to wake up.”

“What happened?” Laura asks as she shifts back. She watches Stacy as she moves over to lay her hands on Derek’s cheeks. Stacy just waves Laura’s glares away before shutting her eyes and starting her work all over again.

“What do you remember?” John asked Laura.

Laura’s eyebrows knitted together as she tried to recall everything before she was knocked out.

“We were in Derek’s Toyota Cruiser,” she started. “Derek was driving when he suddenly stopped just as we saw your police lights. He got out of the car and bolted, half shifted.” She paused for a moment, letting the memories come back to her without forcing them. “I ran after him to find you lowering your gun as he was hugging those two,” she pointed to Boyd and Erica who had stepped a bit closer to everyone, but still left some distance.

“I can remember that I was trying to yell something,” Laura said, “but I couldn’t move anymore, and that’s when everything went black.”

John nodded his head. “Jennifer must have ambushed you,” he said.

“Jennifer?” Laura asked.

“Derek’s ex,” Stiles piped up.

“Of course,” Laura said with a sigh and an eye roll.

“What happened after that?” Stiles asked, turning to his father.

“Derek tried to tackle her to the ground when he saw that she caught Laura, but she had something ready for him,” The Sheriff said. “I couldn’t tell what, but it was like he slammed into a wall, and then she had some sort of smoke tentacle around him, too.”

The Sheriff shook his head before he continued. “I fired two shots into her chest without think. I don’t think she was ready for that because she didn’t stop them, and she was on the ground. After that, I corralled these two,” he said as he nodded over to Erica and Boyd, “into the back of my cruiser, and bolted out of there when I realized she was getting back up.”

Stiles winced a little, but nodded his head in understanding. If his dad had gone back, he would have probably just been caught, too, or worse.

The young man started to open his mouth to say something when a sudden pressure started to squeeze his hand. He looked down to find his hand in Derek’s, and it was Derek squeezing. Stiles looked up to Derek’s face as the man’s eyes slowly fluttered open. Stacy let go of Derek’s face after a quick look into his eyes. They flashed blue for just a moment, and she nodded her head. Derek groaned as he sat up, making sure to keep hold of Stiles’ hand as he did so. Stiles’ heart lurched a little, but he didn’t say anything.

“What happened?” Derek asked.

“You’re ex happened,” Laura said as she punched his shoulder. “Seriously, Derek, you know how to pick ‘em.”

Derek winced, but didn’t say anything back since she was right.

“Jennifer caught you, and Kate caught me,” Stiles answered Him.

“What?” Laura nearly snarled.

“Yea,” Stiles nodded. “They were working together. If it wasn’t for Stacy, we wouldn’t have been able to get you two.”

“Shit,” Laura cursed. Derek just nodded. He squeezed Stiles’ hand one more time before letting go to rub at his drowsy eyes.

Stiles found his hand cold from the absence of Derek’s hand, but just shook it off.

“Can I borrow your phone?” he asked the man sitting on the couch. Derek just nodded and pulled it from his pocket. Stiles got up from where he had be kneeling the whole time, and stepped over to Derek’s bedroom space so he could have a little more privacy when he called his friends.

He started with Scott, but it went straight to voicemail. He tried Kira after a few more tries with Scott, but it also went to voicemail. Finally, he tried calling Lydia.

“Hi, Derek, we’re on our way back to your apartment because something is chasing us,” Lydia said before the first ring even finished.

“Uh,” Stiles said in return.

“Stiles,” Lydia started, “There is an extremely wild alpha running behind us, and we’re turning into the parking lot now.”

“Shit,” Stiles snapped as he ran out of the bedroom and opened Derek’s closet. After rummaging past Derek’s uniforms, he found a baseball bat with multiple runes carved into the wood. He pulled that out as well as Derek’s old leather jacket. He pulled the jacket and traced all the violent energy that it had been hit with over the years. Stiles pulled that energy and siphoned it into the bat until the runes started to glow red. He ran over to Stacy in another moment, but before he had a chance, her left breast started to play Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5.

“One second, Darling,” Stacy said as she pulled a pink smartphone from her chest. She tapped the answer icon and the speaker icon before saying, “Hello?”

“This is Joan,” came a French girl’s voice. “I have four people here who would like to come up to monsieur Derek’s apartment, but I am a bit detained as they have brought a Loup Garou with them?”

“I understand, dear,” Stacy said. “I’ll be on my way down.” 

“Merci beaucoup,” Joan said before disconnecting.

“Did you need something, Darling?” Stacy asked Stiles as she stuffed the phone back into her bra.

“I’m coming with you,” was all Stiles said. Stacy looked Stiles up and down before nodding.

“Wait, Stiles,” John calls out. “What’s going on?”

Stiles just shrugs before saying, “I’m going to go help some friends, and hopefully we can figure that out.”

John looked like he wanted to say more, but Derek patted his arm from where he was sitting. His shoulders slumped as he watched Stiles and Stacy enter the elevator.

“Are you going to be okay?” Stacy asked as the elevator began to descend.

“I’ll be fine,” Stiles answered as his grip tightened along the bat.

Stacy gave Stiles another once over, looking at Stiles in a way that no one else would be able to. The pink lady just sighed and looked back to the elevator doors as they opened up to the chaos going on just outside the leasing office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention that one of my favorite things to write is action? So I'm having a blast writing the next chapter. I wonder who this werewolf is? Why are they chasing Scott, Kira, Allison, and Lydia? Why can't the writer give these people a break? What was Stacy seeing in Stiles? Why are there so many questions? Find out... sometime later!


	8. Everything is FINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes bat happy, the new security guard is a young french woman, Scott can't time things, everyone is frustrated, and the author doesn't know and doesn't want to make things better for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I meant to post this on Thursday, but I completely forgot and I am SO sorry about that! I want to warn everyone now that this is where the graphic violence really starts, and it's all down hill from here. As in the violence is going to get darker, grittier, bloodier, and a whole lot of other iers. Thanks for staying with me, and please enjoy as I torture everyone for an unknown period of time.

As Stacy and Stiles walk out from the elevator room, Lydia and Allison come in from the office entrance with Scott draped on top of them. Stiles could see blood staining the back and sides of Scott’s shirt.

“Scott!” Stiles yelled as he rushed over to his friends.

“He’s going to be fine,” Lydia said. “We went to go pick him up, and he got attacked as he was coming towards us.”

“Damn it,” Stiles yelled.

“I’ll buzz you in,” Stacy said as she slid into her chair at the reception desk.

Stiles didn’t wait to see if they got Scott into the elevator. He slid past his friends and swung the office door open with a frustrated shove. He paused for a moment, after stepping out into the parking lot, in shock as icy fear drips through his veins when he sees the supposed werewolf.

The beast had taken a note from Peter’s handbook from way back when these things started. It’s fur was jet black, and it’s eyes glowed like two red stop lights. The thing had to be at least the size of an SUV. Each tooth was sharp and glowing white, like rows of porcelain daggers. On top of looking intimidating, the werewolf was emanating a hatred that choked the air. Stiles could barely feel anything else as the emotion rubbed itself all over him like oil.

While Stiles tried his best to get himself under control after the initial shock, Kira and Joan continued to keep the beat at bay. Kira ran around the wolf with a smoothness that only a Kitsune could produce. She ran and ran, and shocked the creature every time she spotted an opening before jumping back and running around again. Joan, on the other hand, stayed rooted to the spot a few feet in front of the office. She had pulled off the black poncho she was wearing which left her in only a lacy, red bra, and black jeans that were rolled up to her ankles. In her right hand was a retractable police baton, and she held the poncho in her left hand like someone might see a bullfighter.

The werewolf charged at Joan who threw the cloth down to the floor. The billowed poncho cut into the asphalt, planting itself like a curved steel plate. Joan stepped back as the wolf slammed into the suddenly sturdy cloth. She spun in an arc around the poncho and swiped her baton at one of the wolf’s legs. A loud crack came from the hit, and the beast snarled. Bone protruded from the opposite side of where the girl hit. It snapped at Joan, but she was already back behind her poncho which had reverted to regular cloth in her left hand. Still, it wasn’t enough as the bone fit itself back, and the werewolf charged again.

Stiles watched as Joan and Kira continued to beat and electrocute the thing. He continued to take deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves as a deep frustration welled up from inside his stomach. Before he knew it, his frustration got the better of him, and a familiar tug pulled at his mind. As if he had been thrown into autopilot, Stiles started to move. He tapped the bat on the asphalt, getting the attention of Kira, Joan, and especially the beast.

The giant werewolf roared at Stiles. It charged past Kira and Joan before they had a chance to stop it. Stiles bolted to the side, passing behind parked cars. He stopped as he hit a turn in the parking garage, and got into a batting stance. The wolf wasn’t far behind him, bashing through the cars like they were bowling pins. It reached Stiles in mere moments, it’s mouth wide open.

Stiles waited a fraction of a second longer before he unleashed all of the violent energy that had been poured into that bat. The runes started to smoke from the unrestrained power. The young man swung the bat, slamming it into the werewolf’s face.

There was a sick crunch as the blow broke the creature’s skull, and an eye blew out of its socket. Stiles watched in raging glee as the beast was thrown back from the blow. It laid, limp, against the asphalt a few feet from where Stiles had hit it. The only thing that showed it was still alive was the shuddered breaths it was taking.

Stiles stepped forward, pulling the bat behind him. Somewhere in his mind, a part of himself was screaming to stop. He ignored the voice and lifted the bat above his head. The bat still had enough energy to land one more blow, and Stiles knew just where it needed to hit to be fatal. He swung down, but the bat was suddenly pulled out of his grip. He turned to snarl at whoever had taken his toy.

Stacy backhanded Stiles into a Prius.

“You know better than that, Stiles,” Stacy chided. She turned to the werewolf and beckoned the other two women to come over. As the two walked forward, Stacy watched as the werewolf’s muzzle, and dented skull started to fill and reform. “I think we should restrain this thing before it wakes up again,” she said. Joan nodded a bit mechanically before taking her poncho and wrapping them around the beast’s front paws. Once she had it tightly secured, it grew stiff and unmovable.

“Why isn’t it shifting back?” Kira asked.

“I think it needs to be put under a different kind of stress to do that,” Stacy said with a wink at Kira.

“Oh,” Kira said in understanding. She stepped closer to the creature than she felt comfortable. She pressed both hands into the werewolf’s fur until she could feel its chest. She felt for where its heartbeat drummed hardest underneath it’s ribs. When she finally found it a few moments later, Kira let loose a shock of electricity with the strength of a lightning bolt.

Stacy pulled Kira back just before the wolf’s back paws came up to kick her away. The creature seized and writhed for a few seconds before falling limp once again. This time, though, the fur and fangs started to melt away until all that was left was a bound, naked man.

“Who is this?” Joan asked.

“That’s Ennis,” Stiles answered as he slowly walked over to the three women.

“Stiles,” Stacy started, but he just raised his hand to stop her.

“I know,” Stiles said as he rolled his head around to check if anything was seriously hurt. “We’ll talk, but right now we need to get him up to the loft before he wakes up.”

Stacy didn’t move for a few moments. She just stared into Stiles’ eyes, and he stared right back. Finally, she sighed and nodded her head. The pink lady picked up Ennis like a rag doll and made her way back to the leasing office. Joan, Kira, and Stiles followed behind.

“Let me go,” they could hear Scott yell as the doors of the elevator opened. “My girlfriend is out there!”

“Scott,” Derek pleaded. “You’re still too hurt. It ripped your back to shreds.”

“I could see your spine,” Laura tacked on.

“I don’t care! I have to help her!”

“I’m fine,” Kira finally said as she walked off the elevator.

Scott was on her faster than the one non-supernatural being, John Stilinski, could follow with his eyes. Kira returned his embrace, and kissed his cheek with a little laugh.

“I said I’d be fine,” she chided, but Scott just shook his head as he rubbed his face against hers.

“Will you marry me?” Scott blurted out.

“What?” Kira said as her whole body went rigid.

“_WHAT?_” Lydia yelled from the kitchen.

“_WHO?_” Erica yelled from the couch.

“Will you, Kira Yukimura, marry me?” Scott asked again as he kneeled down in front of Kira. He fished the black, felt, box from his right pant pocket.

Kira put her hands over Scott’s before he could open the box.

“Scott,” Kira spoke softly. “I love you very much, but this is not the time to be asking me this.” Scott’s shoulders slumped as he stood back up. Kira gave the man a quick peck across the lips before saying, “Ask me again when things calm down a bit more.” Scott nodded in agreement, and beamed at his girlfriend.

During all of the commotion, Joan stepped over to the kitchenette. She searched through Derek’s cupboards before coming across a loaf of sliced bread. She smiled at the bread, fondly, before pulling it out and placing it next to the toaster. She fished two slices out and fit them into the toaster before pushing the switch down. As the toaster did its job, Joan moved over to the fridge to hunt for butter.

“This can’t be coincidence,” Lydia said when Stiles had the chance to get to her. The two watched as Stacy took the still unconscious Ennis into Derek’s bedroom. She left the door open so the two of them could keep an eye out in case he tried to pull anything, but Ennis didn’t look like he was going to be waking up any time soon.

“I know,” Stiles said. “I was attacked by Kate Argent, and Derek and Laura were nearly taken by Jennifer Blake.”

Lydia winced at hearing Jennifer’s name, but she shook it off barely a second after.

“Who could be orchestrating this?” she asked.

“Who would bring back both our friends and enemies?” Stiles asked.

“Bring back?” Joan asked, causing the two to jump. Stiles stumbled back a few steps before catching himself. Lydia smoothly turned around to look at the girl.

Joan took a large bite of her buttered toast, and chewed joyously before asking, “Bring back from where?”

“Uh,” Stiles said. “Death?”

Joan froze in mid bite. She pulled the almost finished piece of toast away from her mouth before turning to look around at everyone. After scrutinizing each and every individual within her view, Joan gave a quick nod before finishing off her toast.

“Death is not here,” Joan said matter-of-factly.

“No,” Lydia started. “Some of the people here have been brought back from the dead.”

Joan hummed for a few beats before saying, “Impossible.”

“How?” Lydia hissed at the girl. “I felt my best friend die. I’m a banshee, and I always know when someone has died.”

Joan simply nodded her head.

“So how could she not have been dead?” Lydia snapped.

“She is not dead,” is all Joan said as she took a bite from her other slice of toast.

“Allison,” Lydia called with a bit more pitch in her voice than she intended. The teen walked over just a moment later looking confused, but happy to have been called. “This is…?”

“You may call me Joan,” the young woman said after swallowing another bite of toast.

“Bonjour Jeanne,” Allison greeted.

Joan smiled brightly at the greeting before spouting off sentence after sentence in French. Allison smiled back, but it grew more forced with each word.

“I’m sorry,” Allison said. “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t spoken French conversationally in a while, or something else, but I’m missing some of the things you’re saying.”

Joan sighed, and gave herself a pity bite of toast before realizing that it was her last bite of toast.

“It is alright,” the woman said to Allison. “It is not you. I have not had chance to learn new French,” she said, biting down on the end of the word with disdain.

“Anyways,” Lydia started. “Allison, could you explain to her that you died?”

“Oh, um, sure,” Allison said. She told Joan about how she had gone to fight off the Oni, and one of them stabbed her through the stomach. She left out the parts about how it was an evil version of Stiles that had caused it, or what she had said to Scott before she passed. Her heart ached a little at the earlier interaction between Scott and Kira.

“No,” Joan said after Allison finished.

“What do you mean, no?” Lydia said as her voice went up an octave.

“Lydia,” Stiles started.

“Yes, her body died,” Joan started, “but her…ah…soul. It was moved to here before it could, um, depart?”

“What?” Allison asked with wide eyes.

“Ah,” Joan said as she started to blush from nervousness. “I’m not good at explaining. If I had way to call branch leader, he could explain.”

“Wait,” Stiles piped up. “Branch leader? I thought you were working for Stacy and the security team for the apartment.”

“Oui, yes,” Joan said with a quick nod, “but, it is a, um, part time?” She clasped her hands together, and her thumbs started to wiggle around each other. “I’m sorry,” she said as she looked at her only her hands. “My English is worse when I am nervous.”

“That’s okay,” Stiles said. He smiled at the girl as she looked up. “We’re just trying to figure things out. What’s this branch you work for?”

“I can’t talk about branch without leader’s permission,” Joan answered with a shake of her head.

Stiles sighed, and Lydia huffed, but neither of them pushed Joan to answer. The girl was starting to shake.

“Why don’t we go make some more toast?” Allison asked. Joan’s expression brightened immediately as she nodded. Allison smiled and turned Joan back to the kitchen. “I like your hair,” she said as she brushed down the other girl’s brown locks that dropped just above her neck. “I wish I could pull off hair that short.”

“Really?” Joan asked. “People told me it makes me look like boy.”

Lydia and Stiles watched the two girls walk over to the kitchenette before they went back to their hypothesizing.

“Maybe there’s someone or something else at play, and we’re just getting caught in the middle of it?” Stiles asked hopefully.

“That doesn’t explain why old friends and enemies are coming back from ‘not death’ or whatever,” Lydia said. “I think someone is using something we don’t understand against us, but I can’t figure out what or who.”

“We need answers,” Stiles agreed.

“We need to wake Ennis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Why can't anyone give Stiles and/or Lydia a straight answer about anything?!? What is Joan talking about?? Who even is Joan?? Why is the author so confused about his own work? Anyways, I already have chapter 9 completed so expect it Monday night/Tuesday morning! I live in California, and can't do math so don't ask me for any other posting details! Also, I promise, and I mean PROMISE that I will have more Sterek moments coming up. Will they be long? Absolutely not, but they will be there.


	9. Mandatory Pack Hangout Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can the pack get any answers out of Ennis?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9! Alright! I am posting this just after finishing up chapter 10. I think I'm finally piecing together where this story is going again. I can't wait to read your reactions!

“Are you sure about this?” Kira asked as she joined Stiles and Lydia in the loft’s bedroom.

“We need to start getting answers,” Lydia said. “We’ve been cornered into Derek’s apartment, and we need information if we’re going to fight back.”

“Okay…” Kira said as she eyed the werewolf. He was still knocked out from Stiles’ earlier blow to his head. Joan’s poncho held fast to his arms like cement shackles.

“May I help?” Joan asked, causing everyone to jump.

“Uh,” Stiles started.

“Can you restrain him more?” Kira asked.

“Oui,” Joan agreed with a smile. The girl tugged on the blanket that Ennis was laying on until it was taught on both sides. Then, she started wrapping the blanket around the alpha werewolf until he was completely swaddled from head to toe. Only the front of his face poked out of the blanket cocoon that Joan put him in. After taking a moment to check her work, she slid a finger from the top of the blanket down to where Ennis’ feet were covered. As her finger pulled away from the fabric, it started to sink as if it had suddenly become dense and heavy.

“He is trapped,” Joan said, grinning at Kira.

“Thank you,” Kira said, and patted the girl’s shoulder.

“Can you wake him?” Lydia asked the pink lady.

Stacy looked at Ennis’ slumbering figure for a moment. She gave a quick shake of her head, letting her shiny, blonde hair bounce from left to right. In a moment, her hand was slamming itself across Ennis’ face.

Ennis roared at the contact. The volume of it was so loud that Kira, Lydia, and Stiles had to cover their ears. Within moments, all the other werewolves in the loft were at the door of the bedroom. Scott, right at the front of all of them, with eyes flashing red.

Kira turned around and goaded the werewolves, and her boyfriend back to whatever they were doing or talking about. Scott whined at her, but she just kissed his cheek and pulled him along by the hand out of the room.

“Hello, Ennis,” Lydia said to the werewolf blanket burrito. The alpha just growled back, flashing his red eyes at her.

“May I?” Stacy asked, motioning over Ennis’ face. Stiles nodded an affirmative, and she bent down to kiss Ennis on the lips. At first, his eyes just grew wide with shock, but they slowly started to droop as Stacy broke the kiss. He didn’t have the same goofy smile that Jennifer did, but he wasn’t scowling as hard as he had been.

“Do you remember how you died?” Lydia asked him.

“Deucalion,” was Ennis’ answer.

“Do you remember how you came back to life?” Lydia continued.

“No,” Ennis said.

“Why did you attack Scott?”

Ennis opened his mouth to answer, but quickly shut it. His upper teeth bit down on his lower lip so hard a small trickle of blood dripped down his cheek.

“Someone has a strong will,” Stacy cooed before kissing the Alpha’s cheek. He relaxed again at the contact, and let go of his lip.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Lydia pushed.

“I don’t know,” Ennis snapped with another flash of red eyes. “I woke up, and I just needed to hunt down Scott McCall.”

“Were you going to kill him?” Lydia asked.

“No.”

“Were you trying to take him somewhere?”

“Yes,” Ennis gritted out.

“Where?” Lydia asked.

“I don’t know,” Ennis answered.

“How can you know that you needed to catch someone, but have no idea where you’re taking them?” Lydia asked.

“I don’t know!” Ennis yelled.

“Wait,” Stiles said as he put a hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “He might really not know.” He stepped closer to the alpha. Ennis’ eyes stayed glowing as he stared at Stiles with an animalistic intent to kill. “Were you already shifted when you woke up?”

“Yes,” Ennis ground out of his mouth.

“I bet he’s just being used as a pawn,” Stiles said. He pushed his hands over the alphas torso without actually touching the other man, and willed his magic into his hands.

“What are you doing?” Lydia asked in a tone that came off as calm, but Stiles could tell that she didn’t like him being so close.

“Checking for those strings,” Stiles answered before shutting his eyes. The young man moved his hands slowly around Ennis’ body. His mind’s eye watched as an image of Ennis grew in front of him. This Ennis was different from the one laying on Derek’s bed. He wore a different kind of shackles on his wrists and ankles. Ennis pulled, and squirmed at the cuffs, but they just left his spirit scraped and exhausted. His eyes were wide and wild. He howled in pain and fear, but none of it helped.

Stiles reach out towards the shackles. He could feel a coolness surrounding them, along with a familiar sense of malice. His hand brushed the magic of the shackle for just a moment, but it was enough to close his mind’s eye and stumble away from the real Ennis. He landed against the wall, his breathing trying to catch up to him.

“Stiles!” Lydia called out as she rushed over and grabbed him before he could slide down to the floor. Stiles’ hands were freezing cold to the touch, as if he had just dipped them in snow.

“Oh, yea,” Stiles said after a few shaky breaths. “He’s under someone’s control.”

“What happened?” Lydia asked him as she tried to warm his hands.

“I opened my mind’s eye,” Stiles said. “I Saw Ennis. His spirit. It’s completely shackled.”

“Oh, Darling,” Stacy said. “You should know better than to use that.”

“What?” Lydia said. “Why?”

Stiles sighed before he said, “Opening the mind’s eye can be dangerous. I’m not just looking at his spirit, he could be looking at mine.”

“Or someone could be waiting to attack you,” Stacy added. “Opening the mind’s eye can leave you both your body and spirit vulnerable, and there are many things that would be willing to take advantage of that.”

“It’s how the nogitsune got a hold of me,” Stiles said with a nod.

“You idiot!” Lydia hissed as she smacked the back of his head. “How stupid can you be?”

“We needed to know!” Stiles said.

“Why couldn’t Stacy do it?” Lydia asked.

“Oh, dear,” Stacy drawled. “I don’t do intricate magic.”

Lydia gave the pink lady a flat look before she said, “of course not.” She sighed for a moment before turning back to Stiles. “So, what happened?”

“It’s really bad, Lydia,” Stiles said. “I don’t know what has him, but it’s old. It’s extremely old. It was like I just brushed my hand against Death itself.”

Joan took no time to suddenly step in front of him, and look him in the eye.

“What do you mean?” Joan asked. Her tone was more serious than it had since he first heard her voice.

“What?” Stiles asked as his eyes went a little wide at the lack of personal space.

“You said, ‘brushed against Death itself.’ What do you mean?” Joan reiterated.

“Joan,” Stacy said as she placed a still perfectly manicured hand on the girl’s shoulder. She just shrugged the hand off of her and continued to stare at Stiles.

“Uh,” Stiles started as his face grew more wary of the girl. “Cold. Not a temperature kind of cold, but like all life had been sucked away. Just touching it for a second felt like I was taking my last breath.”

Joan’s eyes widened at Stiles’ words and she whipped her head to look at Ennis. She stepped over to him and placed her hand on the Alpha’s cheek. Lydia, Stiles, and Stacy watched as the girl let out a small gasp.

“Brother,” she said to the man in a quiet voice.

“What?” both Lydia and Stiles said.

“What has been done to you?” Joan asked Ennis. Ennis just groaned and shut his eyes.

“Joan,” Stiles said, slowly. “Why did you call him brother?”

“He is a brother,” Joan answered.

“You’re not a werewolf,” Stiles said.

“She doesn’t mean by blood, Darling,” Stacy said.

“Then what does she mean?” Stiles asked, turning to the tall woman by the head of the bed.

“It’s not for me to say what she mean,” Stacy said before taking a sudden interest in her nails.

Stiles cursed before grumbling something about deities under his breath which got him a pointed look from Stacy. He just rolled his eyes and walked out of the bedroom. The young man paused for a moment as he noticed all of the furniture had been moved around the perimeter of the loft.

Everyone was about, doing their own thing. Erica and Boyd were cuddled together on the couch, whispering to each other about things Stiles couldn’t hear. Allison was in the kitchenette, slicing cheese into thin strips next to the stove top. Laura and Stiles’ dad sat at the counter, talking about what sounded like plans to do something with the Hale house.

Derek brushed past Stiles as he headed to the closet. The man bent over and grabbed a stack of blankets before turning back around. He stopped just next to Stiles as the younger man watched him. Derek took a moment to look at Stiles. He looked tired. Whatever had gone on in his bedroom didn’t leave Stiles feeling any better, and he could tell without even having to smell him. Stiles gave a short smile to Derek, and he offered a grin of his own. The two started to part ways when Derek grabbed at Stiles arm.

“Hm?” Stiles said, his heart jumping a little at the sudden action.

“My jacket,” Derek said.

Stiles looked down to see that he never took it off after the fight with Ennis. The leather hugged his shoulders comfortably, and the sleeves just fit his long arms.

“Oh,” Stiles said, shrugging out of the jacket. “Sorry, I wanted to borrow it for some added protection.”

“No,” Derek said before Stiles could finish taking it off. “Keep it. It looks good on you.” The man rubbed his hand along the shoulder and down the back of the jacket, causing Stiles to shiver for a moment. They both stared at each other for a silent moment before Derek blinked and continued on his way to lay out blankets all over the floor. Stiles just smiled to himself and walked over to the kitchen to see what Allison was up to.

John and Laura watched the two as they split up. They gave each other a knowing look before shrugging and continuing their own conversation.

“What are you up to?” Stiles asked Allison.

“I’m making grilled cheeses for everyone,” she answered. “It’s the least I can do, and I got the idea from Joan. She’s an interesting girl, Stiles.”

“You’re telling me,” Stiles sighed.

“No, like, really interesting,” Allison stated. “She speaks in a really old style of French, and when I asked her about grilled cheese, she said that she likes to eat bread because it reminds her of home but she doesn’t actually need food.”

“Wait, she doesn’t need food?” Stiles asked.

“That’s what she said,” Allison affirmed. She buttered a side of bread and placed it onto a heated pan. “There’s something really familiar about her,” Allison added, but just shrugged and layered the cooking slice of bread with cheese.

Stiles didn’t have the energy to really think about it. After two fights, and an interrogation that went almost nowhere, Stiles needed to get some sleep. The young man grabbed a pillow off the couch, patting at Erica’s leg fondly, and laid down next to the television. His eyes slowly drooped as sleep started to take him before he remembered that no one was at the café.

“Lydia,” he cried out from the floor.

“What?” Lydia asked as she walked into the living room.

“Can you pull the worker data base off of your phone and call Damien to close up the store for me?” he asked from the floor.

“Yea,” Lydia sighed.

“Oh, and if he asks, tell him we were robbed, but everything is okay,” Stiles added.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yea, we just need to buy some new tables and chairs.”

Lydia’s second sigh was a lot longer than the first, but Stiles didn’t worry about it as sleep swept over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joan! What do you mean?!?! Ennis, what happened to you??? Stiles, who taught you these things?? aReveur, what are you doing with your life? Okay, I promise to actually have these questions answered at some point before the story ends. Well, most of them. Mainly because I'm 90% sure I'm going to be writing a sequel to this. Stay tuned!


	10. Death Throes and Family Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles can't have a good dream, but he's still having a better time than Ennis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY that this is late. I mean to post this on Wednesday before Thanksgiving, but this damn pie took me forever to bake and I just went to bed, and then it was Thanksgiving and I was stressed out to the point I got sick. So here is chapter 10 now! Please forgive me! Hopefully chapter 11 will be out by Tuesday, but I have a lot to work on and I have less than half of the chapter written so far.

The dream version of Stiles’ family house felt warm. There was a fullness to the place that the young man hadn’t felt in many, many years. Stiles sat quietly on the couch as he watched some made-up baseball game on the television. He assumed that his dad was out in the backyard, grilling something. From the kitchen, though, he could smell someone baking.

Stiles’ eyes widened in hope as he jumped off of the couch, and he ran into the kitchen. It wasn’t often that he had dreams of his mother. They had gotten fewer and fewer over the years since Claudia had died, but even less now that his spark had taken bloom. He turned the corner, and nearly ran into the kitchen table before turning to look at his mom as she baked one of her old recipes.

In her place was a tall, blonde woman, clad entirely in pink attire.

“That’s not fair, Stacy,” Stiles said as her heart sank into his stomach.

“You know better than anyone here that I am not fair, Darling,” Stacy answered as she pulled a pan of cookies out from the oven. She walked over with the still steaming tray to the kitchen table and sat down at its head. She patted the chair to her left, smiling softly at Stiles. Before Stiles knew it, he was already in the chair with a warm cookie in his hand.

“Why are you in my dreams?” Stiles asked.

“I think you know why,” Stacy said. “Something is going on with you, Stiles. Your spark is going all willy-nilly, and there’s something dark trying to latch onto it.”

“I know,” Stiles said with a sigh.

“And?” Stacy asked with some impatience.

“And what?” Stiles snapped. “What do you want me to do? I can’t help that there’s a part of me that’s enjoying this in its own twisted way! Do you know how much guilt I’ve had pent up over Allison’s death? Of course everything would overflow, and I’d lose control after she came back!”

As Stiles spoke, a much younger version of himself in a black tuxedo threw the front door open and stomped into the kitchen. Stacy watched the boy as he sniffled over to Stiles’ side.

“It’s not fair,” the kid said as he wiped tears off of his face with a jacket sleeve.

“I know,” Stiles said and patted his younger self’s back.

“Stiles,” Stacy started, but it was too late.

An icy cold feeling crawled up Stiles’ arm as he realized that his hand was sinking into the child’s body. He tried to pull away, but the motion just pulled the kid until he was sticking to Stiles’ side.

“It’s not fair,” the boy said again. His eyes grew a shade darker as he looked into Stiles’ own. “It’s not fair that stupid Allison is back, but Mom isn’t. Why isn’t Mom back?” The voice became less of a whimper and more of a frustrated snarl. Stiles tried to get up from where he was sitting, but his child version swung it’s arms around his neck. “Why does everyone else get to see the ones they love?” it hissed in Stiles’ ear. “What makes them so special? I deserve it just as much as them. I deserve it more than them.” They both landed on the floor as he continued to struggle to get the thing off of him.

“I think that’s enough,” Stacy said from where she was still sitting at the table. The younger version of Stiles looked at her and hissed. She reached out for a cookie and slowly took a bite, taking her time as she chewed into whatever flavor Stiles’ had dreamt up. The creature continued to suck Stiles into its body as she got up and pushed her chair in.

“This,” Stacy said as she slapped younger Stiles off of his older self and into a wall, “isn’t a part of you, Darling.” The pink lady helped Stiles off the floor before gesturing at the younger version. It had curled into itself, crying quietly without looking at either of the other people in the dreamscape. “That isn’t you,” Stacy said with a flat look. “If you had more time to work on your magic, you would have known that, Darling.”

“Oh,” Stiles said quietly. “What is it?” he asked.

“Something that used to worshipped,” Stacy started. “It’s something that you have connected to before, Darling. Something old…well, older,” she clarified.

Stiles thought for a moment about what Stacy had said. The dreamscape churned and changed as he thought. He went back to the three tubs of ice water in Dr. Deaton’s clinic. He watched as his younger self transformed along with the space around it. It grew up fast until a teenaged Stiles was standing in its place. It’s body and face were too pale, and the dark look that smiled across its face. Stiles stared at the Nogitsune, but knew that it wasn’t quite right. It had already told him that it wasn’t the Nogitsune. Stiles tried to think back further. Searching deep within himself.

“What are you?” he said to the thing.

“I’m you,” it said back. “I’m your deepest regrets, fears, and joys.”

“No,” Stiles said as he shook his head. “She said you aren’t,” he pointed a thumb at the pink woman who stood by his side, “and she’s much older than you.”

“Excuse me?” Stacy said.

“Sorry, sorry,” Stiles said.

The young man stared at the dream Nogitsune, and thought back. Back to when he had gotten into the tub for the first time. Still, nothing was reaching him. It was as if a part of himself was being blocked off.

“Oh,” Stiles said in realization. “You’re doing something,” he said to the Nogitsune. The young man slowly stepped closer to the creature, an accusing finger pointed right at its chest. “Stacy said you were latched onto me. You’ve been using my own spark against me. You’re keeping me from seeing what you really are.”

“I can’t keep you from seeing yourself,” it hissed. It’s voice kept its confidence, but it stepped back a few paces as Stiles continued closer.

“You’re lying,” Stiles yelled. “Now let go of me,” he demanded as he grabbed the Nogitsune by its shirt and threw the creature into the tub. It took only a moment for it to dissolve in the freezing waters, and another moment for the entire dreamscape to change again. This time, Stiles and Stacy were standing somewhere within a large expanse of forest. It took only a second for Stiles to recognize the forest as being part of the Hale Preserve, and a second more to know exactly what had been trying to take over his body.

The Nemeton stood taller and wider than any of the trees surrounding it. It’s boughs and branches stretched high and low. Stiles shivered as he looked at the tree. It’s own energy, even in Stiles’ own dream, seemed to loom over him like it could grab him at any moment if it wanted to.

“A tree?” Stacy said, bemused.

“It’s not your mythology, Stacy,” Stiles answered as the scene pulled away and disappeared.

“That it sure isn’t, Darling,” Stacy sighed. “Now, don’t be letting just anyone into your dreams,” she chastised. “I’m not going to be here every time something comes for that pretty spark of yours. You need to better rely on yourself, and it if you’re going to…”

“Stacy?” Stiles called. He turned to where she had been standing, but she had disappeared.

That’s when actual Stiles heard yelling from inside the loft.

Stiles jumped off the floor, throwing Derek’s arm off of where it had somehow been placed along his waist. He didn’t have time to think about that, though as everyone was awake and rushing to the bedroom. Stiles got their first and watched as Ennis yelled and snarled at an older man in an old black suit.

The old man stretched out his long, thin arms, and measured Ennis’ height and width with a cloth measuring tape. Everything about the man just looked dusty. There was dirt on the tape, and brown spots could be seen all over the tales of his jacket. Even the glasses that stood on top of his long, pointed nose were dotted with dirt.

Derek rushed the old man, snarling at the intruder.

The old man gave a low pitched whistle, and Derek was suddenly back across the room. The werewolf tried to run at the man again, but he gave another, slightly higher pitched whistle, and Derek was across the room and stuck to a wall.

Stiles started to move over to help Derek, but Stacy raised a hand. She made no other move. Just stood at the head of the bed, and watched as the old man took Ennis’ measurements. When the man was finished, he rolled the measuring tape, and placed it into a jacket pocket. He turned and nodded at Stacy, who inclined her head in return, and walked over to the windows in Derek’s bedroom. He swung the window open, and jumped out.

Stiles and a couple others ran to the window, but only found a murder of crows flying out and away from the building. Stiles turned back to see if Ennis was alright, but the alpha was still. His eyes lifeless and dull.

“Damn it!” Stiles yelled. “Who was that?” he asked, turning to Stacy.

Stacy just shrugged and said, “He is not my kind.”

“Uh, guys?” Allison called from outside of the bedroom. She had stayed behind after she watched Joan grow pale, and cower behind the counter of the kitchenette. Lydia got to the two of them first, with John, Erica, and Boyd right behind. Stiles and Laura stayed with Stacy to help Derek off of the wall.

“What happened?” Lydia asked.

“I’m not sure,” Allison answered. “She ran with everyone else to see what was happening, but whatever she saw scared her.”

“Joan,” Lydia started, “do you know that man?”

“Not a man,” Joan said. “Monster.” The girl shuddered.

“Joan,” Lydia said as she got down on her knees in front of the girl. “I need you to talk to me. That man came into what was supposed to be our safest space and just killed our only source of information.” The woman took one of Joan’s hands into both of hers. She looked the girl in the eye and said, “Please, help us.”

The French girl looked away for a moment before turning back to Lydia and nodding her head. “I will tell you what I can,” Joan said. “He is called Undertaker.”

“Is he a part of the same branch as you?” Lydia asked. Joan shook her head.

“Different,” she said. “He takes away the violent ones. The ones who do not want to leave.” Her lip quivered as she spoke, and her eyes grew glossy with tears. “But he is a brother, and he took a brother,” she said as the tears started to fall. “We don’t take our own.”

“What do you mean by our own?” Lydia asked, gently. Joan just shook her head again, but didn’t give any further answers. Lydia patted the girl’s head and got up. She looked at Allison who was already moving Joan over to a couch so she could be more comfortable while she cried.

“What is going on?” John asked, mostly to himself, as Lydia walked by on her way back to the bedroom. He followed along, quietly puzzling what information he had.

“Is Derek okay?” Lydia asked as she walked in.

“I’m fine,” he answered from where he was sitting on the floor. “What happened?” he asked.

“Joan knew the guy who killed Ennis,” Lydia answered.

“What?” Stiles snapped, but Lydia put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.

“I don’t think she’s an accomplice,” She started. “She was scared, Stiles. She didn’t want to be seen by him.”

“What did she say about him?” Stiles asked.

“Not a lot,” Lydia sighed. “He goes by the Undertaker, and he works for a different branch.”

“That’s almost nothing,” Stiles said as he pushed his hair up, and away from his forehead.

“Maybe not,” Lydia started. “She called him a brother, like she had said about Ennis last night. She also said that brothers don’t take brothers. I think whatever organization she works for is going through some in-fighting.”

“That also explains how Jennifer and Kate had gotten all souped up,” Stiles said. “They must be a part of whatever is going on with Joan’s group.”

“It still doesn’t explain why they’re both after us, and protecting us,” Lydia added. “Who would even send Joan of Arc to protect us?”

Stiles, Derek, and Laura all froze for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles started, “what?”

“What?” Lydia asked.

“Joan of Arc?” Laura said. “As in the French legend?”

“You can’t be telling me that none of you figured it out,” Lydia said. “A young French girl with boyish hair who speaks an old style of French that neither Allison or I could fully decipher, and just happens to be called Joan?” She huffed at the three of them. Even John, who had been standing behind her, had to shake his head at his son for not realizing. “I know I’m the smart one, but I thought the bar was raised a little higher than that!”

“Okay,” Stiles said with a hand raised. “I just want to remind you that I haven’t slept properly until last night, and that wasn’t exactly the best because I was sleeping on the floor and this one,” he pointed to Stacy, “was giving me lessons in kicking out evil entities from my body.”

“What?” John all but yelled, but Stiles just shook his head.

“It’s fine,” Stiles said. “The Nemeton tried to latch on to me or something. Stacy helped me get rid of it.”

“The Nemeton,” Lydia said with another long suffering sigh. “Why not add another thing to the list?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check it out,” Stiles said.

“Or it could get you killed,” Lydia retorted.

“I’ll go with him,” John and Derek said at the same time. John lifted a single eyebrow in Derek’s direction. The other man just gave a cool stare back, but his ears turned a light shade of pink.

“I guess I can go too,” Laura said, gently punching her brother’s shoulder.

“Uhg,” Lydia said as her hand rubbed against her temple. “At least take the hero with you.”

“What are we going to do about the body?” Laura added. Everyone turned to look at the Ennis’ pale face.

“I’ll take care of this,” Stacy said without looking up from her nails.

“I need to buy a new bed,” Derek grumbled as he started to stand.

“Maybe something larger than a queen?” Laura asked. “I’m sure a king sized bed would be just enough to fit you and…” Derek struck his elbow across her mouth before she could finish. Both Lydia and John sighed behind Stiles as he watched the siblings wrestle on the floor next to a bed with a dead body in disbelief.

At the situation, Stiles couldn’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that is Joan of Arc! I know, not really surprising, but I feel like she wasn't really trying hide her identity anyway. You also met another one of her pals! Isn't Undertaker just a sweet heart? I think questions will definitely start getting answered by chapter 11 and 12... If I can finish writing them. I Hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	11. The Trees Have Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura visits what's left of the Hale House, and the Forest knows. The Forest always knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is late, my internet connection completely died. Enjoy the chaos!

Stiles drove the jeep down the dirt road through the preserve until he reached the charred skeleton of the Hale house. Laura gasped from the back seat across from Stiles. She remembered going to see the house just before she died, but she didn’t get a moment to really look at it.

The Hale house had changed since the first time Scott and Stiles had come across on their search for a dead body. What was left of the second and third floors had caved in, and the walls the walls of the façade that were still standing only stood with the help of an overgrowth of vines that covered them. There was nothing left but a shadow of a memory of what the house used to be.

Laura stepped out of the car first, rushing out and onto the porch of her childhood home. Derek was just a few seconds after. Following her until they were huddled together. Stiles and Joan watched as Derek wrapped an arm around his sister’s shaking shoulders.

“I know of this place,” Joan said from behind Stiles. When she didn’t hear a reply from the young man she continued. “A brother was here when it happened. I remember his return. His eyes. They were so hollow. Fire is so terrible. If only we could have helped, but Death can come for anyone. All we can do is pass on.”

Stiles turned around in his seat to look at the solemn French girl. Gears ground together in his mind as he tried to formulate his questions. Her face was turned in the direction of the Hale siblings.

“Joan,” Stiles started. The girl turned to him, eyes glistening with tears. “Did you pass on?” She shook her head.

“I was…my soul was chosen to join in something much bigger than my life had lead me to believe,” she answered.

“What…” Stiles started to ask another question, but Joan opened her door and stepped out of his jeep. “Damn it,” Stiles whispered under his breath as he opened the driver side door.

The first thing Stiles noticed when he got out of the car was how alive everything felt in the preserve. It was more than just the buzz of birds and other animals, the trees themselves had an added presence to them. The forest was brimming with energy, and Stiles couldn’t tell if it was dangerous or not.

“We should start moving,” Stiles said as he pulled the bat out from the back of the jeep.

“Weren’t we going to wait for your dad?” Derek asked once Stiles walked over to him and Laura.

“He’s probably going to be in the office for a while, and I’m not sure I like the new energy this place is giving off,” Stiles answered.

Derek inhaled the air deep into his lungs. He could smell what Stiles was talking about. There was something wild about the forest, unnaturally wild.

“The Nemeton?” Derek asked.

“More than likely,” Stiles nodded as he headed over to a trail that would take them all to the giant tree stump. “I’ve felt the Nemeton before, but it had already been cut down before I even knew about it. This feels similar.” Stiles shivered as the sound of leaves shook without a breeze. “I think it might be sentient.”

“Sentient?” Laura said as she caught up to the group. “Like it can think?”

“Kind of,” Stiles said.

The group of four walked quietly through the forest. Stiles and Derek walked side by side along the trail. Stiles assumed that it was just Derek’s protective instinct that had the two men constantly brushing shoulders as they walked, but every time it happened it would pull Stiles’ mind away from his surroundings.

“Derek,” he whispered.

“Sorry,” Derek whispered back.

“I just need a little space,” Stiles said. Derek just nodded and took a step back.

As the four of them drew closer and closer to the clearing, the energy of the forest grew and changed. For the two werewolves everything smelled sour, as if everything had grown too ripe and was starting to rot. Even their instincts had them on high alert. For Joan, she only felt a deep foreboding from the forest. She was coming up on something familiar, but it left her with a dread similar to when she saw Undertaker. Stiles’ empathy link felt it the worst. The entire forest seemed to go from a simple wild itch to an abundance of rage. If the energy took on a physical form it could have blown the entire group out of the preserve, and maybe a few miles passed that. The energy was almost overwhelming, but everyone pressed on.

The werewolves stopped first. A low growl rumbled through both Derek and Laura. Both were staring at the trail ahead, but the forest had grown so thick that Stiles and Joan couldn’t see what was coming closer. It wasn’t until a tall, blonde man came sliding to a stop that Stiles and Joan knew what the werewolves were growling at.

He couldn’t have been much older than Stiles. The man’s sharp brown eyes were wide, and wild as he only took a moment to look at everyone. Both legs of his blue jeans had multiple tears, and there was mud all over his black shirt.

“What are you…” Derek started, but was caught off guard by the sound of a loud bang behind the man.

The blonde man jumped at the noise and bolted to the group’s right. Derek and Laura motioned to chase after him, but Stiles stopped them with a wave of his hand. The four of them continued forward until they entered the clearing where the Nemeton stood. They froze to a halt as they saw Kate Argent and Jennifer Blake get thrown back by a single figure.

It took Stiles less than a second to recognize the young man that had thrown the two women. His short brown hair was still well kept, and there wasn’t a spot of dirt or wrinkle on his black jeans and pink, pineapple button up shirt. There wasn’t a care in the world on the guy’s face. His left arm was crossed, and the other was lifted up so he could watch as he cracked his knuckles.

“Can you please just tell me where the other half is?” Damien asked.

“I won’t,” Kate grunted as she got up from the floor.

Damien looked up from his hand to glare at the huntress, but his eyes caught on to Stiles and his group instead. The young man’s eyes were colder than anything Stiles was expecting, and the weight of his gaze left the man’s legs shaking. Damien blinked, and the effect wiped off of Stiles in less than a second. In that moment Jennifer swung both of her hands in the air, leaves flying up around her and Kate. In another second the leaves fell back to the ground, and the two women were gone.

“Damn it,” Damien said as he placed his hand against his forehead. “Hi, boss man,” he greeted the group from across the clearing.

Frustration burned inside of Stiles as he looked at the young man. The knuckles on his right hand turned white from how tightly they were holding on to his baseball bat, and the runes carved into it started to glow with a dull red.

“Did you know what was going on this entire time?” Stiles asked.

“Um,” Damien started as he raised both hands up to shoulder height. “Would it make me look better if I said that I didn’t know you were directly involved?”

“No,” Stiles yelled.

“Would it make me look better if I said that I was trying to stop all this?”

“No!”

“Would it-“

“Just tell me the truth, Damien!” Stiles screamed. The energy in the forest grew heavier.

“Yes, I knew about everything happening,” Damien said.

“Did you have Joan get herself hired by Derek’s security company?” Stiles asked.

“Joan?” Damien asked as a single eyebrow shot up his forehead.

“Bonjour, Damien,” Joan called out from behind Stiles and Derek.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Damien said to the sky. “No, she doesn’t work in my branch.”

“What the fuck are these branches?” Stiles yelled.

Damien didn’t say anything for a moment. Derek and Laura growled into the silence, coaxing the young man to continue answering the questions. Damien rolled his eyes at the werewolves, but answered anyway.

“We’re part of an organization that transports souls to the afterlife. We call ourselves The Children of Death, but most people just call us Grim Reapers.”

“What?” Stiles yelled.

Damien sighed as he rubbed his face with his right hand, and started to walk towards the group.

“You know, Death?” Damien asked. “Usually depicted in movies and TV as some skeletal figure in a black robe carrying a scythe? That’s actually us,” He gestured to Joan and himself. “We collect the souls that have died, and we send them to whatever afterlife we’re supposed to send them to.”

“Uh,” Stiles said. “You’re surprisingly forthcoming.”

“He’s a branch leader,” Joan answered.

“Eh,” Damien shrugged. “That’s kind of up in the air right now. I am the branch leader, but I seem to have taken on two co-leaders in the shape of those two ladies.”

“Jennifer and Kate are Grim Reapers?” Derek cut in.

“Are those their names? I didn’t get a chance to ask,” Damien said.

“Wait, does that mean Ennis was one too?” Stiles asked.

“I’m sorry, was?” Damien asked in return. His head tilted a little to the right, and his smile thinned.

“Undertaker took his soul away,” Joan added.

Damien just stared at the group for a moment, smile still plastered to his face. “I’m going to excuse myself for just one second,” he said before walking over to a fairly large tree. The man pulled his right hand back, palm facing the trunk, and slammed his hand into the tree. A large “Crack!” sounded from the impact, and the tree fell to the floor. Damien shook himself, and twisted his neck until it cracked, and walked back to the much more wide-eyed group.

“Sorry about that,” Damien said with smile still on his face. “I’m already a little frustrated, so finding out that strangers are bossing around my most dangerous soul collectors kind of makes my blood boil.”

“Uh,” Stiles said.

Damien sighed. “Joan?” he called out. The girl stepped out of the group so Damien would have a better view of her. “What are you doing here?” the man asked.

“Branch leader asked me to protect Derek Hale and his friends,” Joan answered.

“Whaaat?” Damien whined. “I wanted that job.” He crossed his arms and pouted. “I never get to work with sexy werewolves.”

“Excuse me,” Stiles cut in. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I told you,” Damien said.

“No, what are you doing here, here?” Stiles tacked on. “What are you doing in the preserve?”

“Oh…” Damien nodded his head. “I noticed some activity going on here that felt like some really perverted use of Death’s power, so I came as quickly as I could. That’s how I found those two ladies, and their human-tree experiment.” He pointed his thumb behind him. Stiles looked over Damien’s shoulder to better see the Nemeton.

The tree was huge. It wasn’t as tall as the surrounding forest, but what it lost in height it gained in width. Its branches, which were nearly as thick as the trunks of some of the surrounding trees, spread past many of the trees that lined the perimeter. The trunk looked as if it could swallow Stiles’ jeep and still have room to fit a couple motorcycles.

“It’s huge,” Stiles said.

“Oh yea,” Damien agreed. “It’s sucked up a hell of a lot of energy lately.”

Stiles walked passed Damien, and towards the massive tree. It gave off such an ominous energy that it left Stiles stumbling the closer he got. As he drew near, he noticed lighter colored branches along the bottom half of the trunk. Stiles froze in place as he realized that the lighter branches were limbs.

“Oh, god,” He said as he ran up to the tree. Derek and Laura were on either side of in a moment.

There were three bodies wrapped into the bark of the Nemeton. Two of the people were unrecognizable. One was almost completely swallowed by the tree, their face and torso were hidden away by the bark. Only two arms reaching out to grab something showed that there was even a person there. The other one seemed to have been pressed into the tree face first. Their elbows were pointed out, and away from the tree, as if the person were trying to push themselves off of the tree.

The third person looked newer than the rest. She looked like she had been thrown into the tree, and it caught her in its clutches. Dirty blonde hair was still sticking out around her face, and the skirt of a black and white dress laid on her knees where her legs were sticking up. The girls face was stuck in a silent scream, but the blank stare showed she was dead again.

Stiles stared at Heather, dropping to his knees as tears blurred his vision. His heart shuddered, and his lungs drew in tight. All that went through his mind was her smile. She had already died too soon once, and here she was. Dead again. The thought forced a raspy yell from his mouth as the tears fell. He dropped his head until his forehead was touching the dirt and leaves on the ground, and sobbed.

Damien and Joan, who had been chatting in the background both turned to bow their heads to the deceased. Derek knelt down next to Stiles, and put his hand on the younger man’s back. He rubbed circles along Stiles spine and said nothing as Stiles cried and cried. Laura, not knowing what to do, turned away from the scene and played with her shirt.

No one realized that during Stiles’ sobs, another person had appeared.

“Don’t you cry, my child,” came a woman’s soft voice.

Stiles could feel Derek’s hand on his back stiffen from shock. He shot his head up, tears still streaming down his face as he tried to look at the woman.

“She’s in a better place,” she said. Stiles could just make out a smile on her face.

Stiles wiped his eyes so he could get a clearer image of the woman who had appeared. She wore simple blue jeans, and a black, knit cardigan. Her eyes were sharp and dark, but somehow soft and kind. Stiles could recognize the resemblance in her eyebrows, and how she stood with authoritative grace, that she was Talia Hale.

“M-Mom?” Laura spoke in a soft, pleading voice.

Before the woman had a chance to speak again, Damien appeared behind her like a shadow come to life. He pulled her forehead back with his left hand, and with a knife that had appeared in his right, he cut into her neck.

Blood spilled.

The Hale siblings roared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think that was bad, just wait because I have horrendous plans for our cast.


	12. Enter Stage Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know. I think Derek and Laura are mad at Damien for some reason, and other stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back. Back again. AuRevoir is back. Thank the heavens. I am so SO sorry this took so long to post. I currently don't have a laptop so I'm kind of just working on this when I can. Please forgive me and enjoy the chapter!

Laura had Damien by the throat faster than her mother could fall to the ground. Derek was just a few seconds behind her with his claws stretched, and cut through the man’s right side. The pineapple button-up tore and blood dripped from Damien’s left side, but he didn’t even wince.

“Did you get that out of your system?” he asked as he swatted Laura’s hand off his neck. The reaper stepped back and swiped a hand down his bleeding side. As the hand passed, skin and cloth start stitching back together.

Laura roared in Damien’s face, but he just gave her an uninterested stare in return. He shoved her back and the werewolf slid to the other side of the clearing, just barely keeping herself standing.

Derek came up from behind the Grim Reaper, claws aimed at the back of Damien’s neck.

Damien ducked underneath, and circled around the other werewolf. He kicked his leg out as he passed, causing Derek to trip and fall on his face.

The werewolf was on all fours, and jumped at the reaper before he could fully get his bearings. He had just enough time to watch Damien’s palm smack his cheek before he was suddenly on his back.

“You two have literally no chance,” Damien said.

The blue and yellow glow of the Hale Siblings’ eyes seemed to just grow brighter with rage.

As the three of them continued to fight, Stiles crawled over to Talia Hale. She had landed face down into the dirt, and was completely motionless. The young man pulled Talia onto her back. When Stiles went to check Talia’s neck, there wasn’t any sign of a cut at all.

Talia gasped and shot up, causing Stiles to crawl backwards a few feet away with a yelp. The two of them just looked at each other with wide eyes before Talia gave the young man a genuine smile.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Damien said. Stiles and Talia turned to find the reaper standing just a few feet from them. He had two fingers on his right hand pointed up in the air behind him where Derek and Laura were hanging in the sky by an invisible force. “What do I have to do to get you out of that body?” he asked.

Talia just shrugged, and stood up. She brushed leaves and dirt off of her face, cardigan, and pants. “I must be reunited with my other half,” she said.

“Mom?” Laura croaked.

“She’s not your mom,” Damien said. He swept his hand around, and the two Hales flew around with him until they were just a foot away from their mother. In less than a second, their eyes widened as they covered their noses, and tried to push away.

“Who are you?” Laura snarled.

“That, my fine wolfy friend, is half of Death stuck in your mother’s reanimated body,” Damien answered.

“What?” Laura yelled.

“Why is everyone so incapable of hearing?” Damien said as he dropped the two werewolves.

Derek and Laura circled around Not-Talia Hale. She just smiled at them without a worry on her face.

“Is… Is Mom in there?” Derek asked the woman.

“I do not know, my child,” Talia answered. “I think she may have been before I fused into her. I remember having my hands on you,” she said as she turned to Laura, “and telling you to forget until you saw family, but I don’t remember why.”

“Oh my god,” Laura said. Tears welled up in her eyes as she brought her hands to her mouth.

“I think she was trying to protect you. At least that’s what I can assume,” Talia said with a shrug. Laura shook her head as tears started to fall. Talia looked like she was going to say something else, but Laura was wrapped in her arms before she could speak up.

“Thank you,” Laura said as she cried. Talia just nodded her head and pulled Laura in closer.

Derek just stared at the two women as they hugged it out. Death caught him watching, and invited him to join the two of them with a quick nod of her head. Derek stayed frozen for a moment, but walked closer until the woman was pulling him into her and Laura’s embrace. He gave a deep, contented sigh, and dropped his head on Talia’s shoulder.

“They are a kind family,” Joan said as she walked over to him.

“How are they so hot?” Damien asked no one. “Also, is Susie working for Evil-Death or Hale-Death? I haven’t been able to get in touch with any of the other branch leaders since my near demotion.”

Joan just shook her head. “I have not heard from her,” She answered. “She did send me to protect,” she added. Damien nodded his head.

Stiles just watched from where he was still on the forest floor. Jealousy swirled in his stomach as he watched the Hales hugging. He knew he should be happy for them, but he just couldn’t get himself to feel anything else. The young man drew his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them. The tree behind him kept him from falling back. Stiles tried to let out a short sigh, but it came out a grumble instead.

Derek turned his head from where it was planted on his not-mother’s shoulder and looked at Stiles. His eyes widened as he realized what Stiles was leaning against.

“Stiles,” Derek started as he untwined himself from Death and Laura.

“It’s fine,” Stiles said, trying not to look anywhere near Derek’s face.

“Stiles!” Derek yelled.

“I said it’s fine!” Stiles yelled back. The emotion dwelling in his stomach flooded the rest of his body, and for a moment everything seemed to blur. Everyone, Joan and Damien included, was thrown back as an invisible force pushed them away. Stiles jumped up in shock, keeping his back against the tree so he wouldn’t fall from how quickly he got up. “Are you…” he started to say as he tried to step forward, but stopped when he realized that he couldn’t seem to stop leaning against the tree. Stiles turned to look at the tree, eyes widening as he realized that it was the Nemeton he had been leaning against since Talia had scared him.

“Stiles!” Derek yelled again as he got up and ran towards Stiles.

“Don’t come closer,” Stiles yelled back, and another wave of energy flew from Stiles and the tree, slamming in Derek. Derek dropped unconscious in a second.

“Joan!” Damien yelled as he slid in front of Derek. He lifted his hands up, both palms facing Stiles as if he had placed them against a wall. Joan pulled Derek’s body until he head was on her lap. Her hands searched around his temple, the tips of her fingers glowing with a soft, white light.

“He is okay,” she said.

“Stiles,” Damien said in a calmer voice. “We just want to help you…”

“I can get out of this myself,” Stiles cut in as he struggled to pull himself away from the Nemeton.

“No, Stiles, you can’t,” Damien said.

“Yes I can!” Another wall of energy flew at the reaper, but he was ready for it this time. He pushed his hands against the energy, and it dissipated.

Stiles struggled more and more against the tree, slowly sinking himself deeper into its bark. His mind was flooded with rage and sorrow as he fought against the tree, but nothing was working. Stiles shoulders’ slumped as he started to give up.

A soft, cold hand grabbed Stiles by the wrist. He looked up just as Talia planted her other hand against the tree and pulled Stiles off of it. Stiles spun and fell to the ground, away from the Nemeton, as Death let go of him.

“Mom!” Laura yelled. She ran towards the woman that looks like her mother, but Damien pushed her away with a flick of his wrist.

Death placed her other hand onto the tree, watching as the bark seemed to stick to her skin. She shut her eyes for a moment.

The clearing filled with pressure. It was so palpable that it kept Laura pressed to the ground, and left Stiles gasping for air.

Talia opened her eyes, which had turned completely black. She pulled at the life force of the tree with her hands. The Nemeton pulled back with just as much strength. She pulled again, digging her shoes into the dirt, but the Nemeton fought back. The bark that had been holding onto Death’s hands grew dry and cracked before falling off of the tree, and throwing Talia back with it.

“Stiles, are you okay?” Damien asked as he knelt down next to the man.

“What happened?” Stiles asked.

“Your plant friend tried to eat you,” Damien answered.

“Shit,” Stiles cursed.

“Right, though?” Damien said. “What was up with the tantrum, by the way?”

“The Nemeton’s been hanging out in my dreams. I think it wants my spark.”

“Hm,” Damien said. He gave a quizzical look at the tree before looking back at Stiles. “You wouldn’t happen to have a history with that tree, would you?” the reaper asked.

“What don’t I have a history with?” Stiles retorts.

“Beyonce, and you have no idea how much that disappoints me,” Damien said. “But for real, who’s the girl, and what’s got you tied to Audrey Two?”

“Uh,” Stiles said. “My friends and I used it a couple times in high school, and we set off a Nogitsune that was trapped inside, and then it possessed me for a short bit. It was just a stump then. That’s Heather,” Stiles pointed at the girl in the tree. “She was a childhood friend of mine. Jennifer killed her. That’s around when we started getting to know about the Nemeton.”

“Wow, Stiles, what is your life?” Damien asked. Stiles opened his mouth, but Damien just put his hand over it. “Shut up, I’m annoyed.” He looked back at the tree and then at Stiles, gears grinding as he thought up some plan.

As Stiles and Damien spoke, Derek was conscious again, but Joan kept him held down as she checked for any injuries. Laura was kneeled by his side. Death continued to play tug-of-war with the Nemeton’s life force with no sign of getting any closer.

“Wanna do something really crazy?” Damien asked Stiles.

“What?” Stiles asked, stone-faced.

“Well,” Damien said with a fake chuckle. “What if I told you I could get you to talk to your friend there, and turn the Nemeton to our side. Or calm it down at least.” The reaper’s smile was too wide to be genuine.”

“What do I need to do?” Stiles asked without a second thought.

“Almost die?” Damien asked. “I mean, you won’t _Die_. My boss here would pull you out before that happened. All you have to do is find… Heather? …find her soul, maybe the other souls in there, and get them to move on and out of Audrey Two’s life force before Talia pulls you out.”

“Uh,” Stiles said. “How much time would I have?”

“Three minutes,” Damien answered too cheerily. At Stiles’ look he added, “It’ll feel like somewhere between thirty minutes and three hours, probably.” 

Stiles watched as the Hale matriarch drew herself up from the ground. Talia took a moment to brush a few leaves out of her hair before she put her hands back on the great tree. With an unknown strength, she clutched the trunk with so much force that the bark around her hands cracked and broke. 

“Don’t exactly have all the time in the world here, Stiles,” Damien said as he snapped his fingers in front of the young man. 

Stiles looked back at Damien and said, “Let’s do it.”

“Great!” the reaper said with a too wide smile. “Soul time is different from real time so take this,” he added before handing Stiles a silver pocket watch he had fished out from his black jeans. “The hands are set to exactly midnight, so you shouldn’t have a hard time keeping track of three minutes. Just hit the button to start it right when you’re inside.”

“You were just holding this for this exact moment?” Stiles asked, eyebrows scrunching as he looked at the watch. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Damien replied with a wave of his hand. “Now,” he started as he pulled himself and Stiles off the ground. “This is going to feel super weird. Try and stay with me now.”

Before Stiles had a chance to ask, the whole forest seemed to curve around him and Damien. He watched as everyone was suddenly hidden by a fast approaching Nemeton. Damien pushed Stiles against the tree, head first. For a brief second, Stiles could feel the energy of the tree wrap around his consciousness. 

Then everything went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that sure was something! I have the next two chapters plotted out, I just need to write them. Hopefully I'll be able to post again sooner than later! Thank you for enjoying my fic so far and for all your patience!


End file.
